The Path Most Traveled
by jjpdn
Summary: Chris was grateful for his second chance at life to atone for his sins. However, in a shattered world where the division between the powerful and the powerless is infinitely vast, he finds himself lost once more in a struggle where morality seems to have disintegrated to ash. Rated M for the monsters in human flesh.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N (June 4, 2019): Added new mural scene.**

 **A/N (November 26, 2018): Fixes and integration of Prologue.**

 **A/N (June 15, 2018): Lots of fixes! Some details were changed. Also new formatting.**

 **Old A/N: The portrayal of Remnant may not be accurate, as honestly… the show isn't consistent, especially with aura, and a lot isn't shown. It'll try to match the canon world as closely as possible. Still, no guarantees.**

 **Feel free to ask me questions through reviews, and remember, leaving a review/follow/favorite encourages me to write more!**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own RWBY. Don't own Earth.**

 **Beta: Courtland, many thanks!**

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

Fire and blood.

Flames licked at his skin as he crawled. The dark miasma of burning flesh swirled around him, choking him. Through the thick black smoke, his eyes spied misshapen bodies and ruins, all blended together in the rubble.

He tried to stay below the smoke, where air was supposed to be fresher. His body fought as hard as it could to stay alive. He was coughing, wheezing, his arms and legs struggling to push his body forward, his eyes darting for an escape. However, his mind wasn't really into it.

The young man felt numb. The sight of the inferno, once a town, wasn't new at all and invoked little emotion in him. Over the last five years, he had seen other areas become desolate overnight one too many times. He remembers the flames spreading through familiar locales. The screams of recent friendly acquaintances as their bodies relinquished their souls from their earthly shackles.

He chuckled softly to himself. Had he really become so used to life or death situations that he could now allow his mind to wander? Or was it that he couldn't care less that he died, skin melting away to ash with the rest? There was so much more to life, so much that he just didn't want to know about anymore. He loved it when he'd lived in his little corner of the world, where his greatest worry had been if his parents have found his stash of… questionables. And now, stuck on the other side of the planet, he was dying on both the outside and the inside.

On the days when nothing interesting had happened and the world slowed down, he would sit in a corner of their current hideout and ponder. He would think of some new outlandish way to escape from his bonds of servitude, think of his family that he'd accidentally abandoned, and maybe even what was for dinner. However, it was morbidly inevitable for him to end up wondering upon the ashes of the departed.

Death, had always been so close to him, intrigued him so much. Did the dead find peace in whatever came after? Was death a sweet embrace – a sense of endless tranquility that envelops you? This young man would have loved it. A place where there was no war, no death, no actions, and most importantly: No responsibility.

The heat around him was starting to become unbearable, but he didn't even notice. His thoughts trudged on, uncaring of his life.

Ah. Responsibility. He made a sound that was something between a wheeze and a dry laugh. _The true weight of responsibility was not something to be taken lightly, especially when both your own and others' lives are at stake_ , he stated in his mind. _But sometimes you just don't have the luxury to care._ The dilemma between the two women came to mind. Nowadays, that memory merely made him feel uneasy, compared to the complete disgust and self-hatred he'd felt beforehand. He had condemned them to a life of such depraved degradation. It wasn't as if this young man had been ignorant of the repercussions when he had made his choice. He just chose to do it with full knowledge of the consequences.

 _If I was a good man, the choice would have been easy, and opposing to all my selfish deeds,_ he hummed to himself, unable to do much else because of the dryness of his ash-covered throat. _Two lives for one. Two lives for my life._ But he couldn't do it. _It wasn't just any life. It was mine._ He chose instead to save himself.

A flash of memory. Days later. Females. Unrecognizable. Naked. And wrong. Blood. Slashes. A knife – can'tseetheblade – imbedded. Parts… missing or misshapen. Still alive…? Mocking voice. "Where's the beauty you were so proud of now, fucking bitches?" Gruesome horrid disgusting; how can anyone do this to another human being -

A sneer forced itself onto his dirty, tired face, stopping the flashes of drained emotions. He coughed, and he tasted blood. It was a nice feeling, somehow, wet liquid in his dried throat, like some kind of twisted elixir of life.

There were so many chances for him to redeem himself, but he always ended up saving himself. Countless chances. Every single time he gave himself reasons, as if there was a good reason for standing by while such atrocities were committed. _Please, oh God. Oh… God… just end it all. Please._ He felt no pain, just a little guilt, anger, regret, and the list went on. The emotions were all muted by time.

He brought his attention back to his situation. Surrounded by flames, there was still one way he could go. Forwards. A little tunnel, empty of flames, leading straight to freedom. Freedom? No, more like slavery. A slave to his own mistakes. It looked so tempting to escape again, but he knew what it entailed. All miracles require a sacrifice, and oh, wasn't life the largest miracle of them all?

He found himself lying on the ground, face upwards, now still, his strength not yet fully exhausted. His body could still go on. However, his mind wanted to stop. He wanted to rest. The tired man didn't want to escape with his life again, only to come back to a life without _life_. He just wanted something, everything to stop.

His eyes blankly looked above, at the smoke, with flames dancing at the edges of his vision.

Then, as if God himself heard his prayers, an angel swooped in from above. It was in the form of a wooden beam, burning, having failed in its duty to stay upright and still. It burned like hellfire, but all this young man saw was its light, parting away the dark smoke as it fell. A fallen angel parting clouds of doubt.

There was no pain, with how quick it was.

This man's name was Chris. Just Chris.

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

"What lies within a human?" It was a female voice, that was for certain. But the scene was also dark. Very dark, dark enough that not even an outline of anything could be seen.

"There is, of course, the heart, the embodiment of love. Then the brain, the center of logic. But it is on the outside that we show something even more sophisticated. Through the eyes, one sees the soul."

There was a giggle.

"Or so the romantics say. How… pretty, for a lack of a better word. You know what I think lies within?"

She giggled again, but there was an edge to it.

"I believe that within every human is filled at the very center with the vilest substance of all. The very enemy that binds science and religion together, that causes the worst wars, and that fells planetary ecosystems."

"This dark, insidious, cancerous thing… is called apathy."

"You see it in action on the television. You see it on the news. Come on, you even see it when walking down the streets. How many people in need do you know about, but still just don't care?"

"How can science stand by and further meaningless advancements of knowledge, when real problems strike the world? How can they empower humans to do more when it is revealed time and again we aren't responsible enough? How can religion strive for anything higher when their members can't even deal with what is below?"

"How can countries stand by while atrocities are committed by their neighbors just because they are worried for their own citizens?"

"Why isn't everyone worried about their planet dying a slow death just because they are not the ones getting poisoned at the moment?"

"How. Many. Reasons!" She emphasized each word as if they were poison. "Can there be as to why you can't help?"

A breath.

"An infinite amount, that's how many. That is the beauty of rationalization."

"Reason like – you are but one person. What can one person do?" Her voice became high pitched, echoing with the sing-song voice of a mocking sneer.

"But if everyone thinks that way, then nobody will stand out."

"Or maybe something more like – this is risky, I don't even know if I should help him."

"Ah, interesting that the center of your argument is all about yourself. You! YOU! You can't stop thinking about you!"

"The reasons go on. There is nothing a human to justify their selfish reasons to not help another… especially if the help comes at a cost to themselves."

"Ha! Are you really a good person just because you handed over ten bucks to a friend in need? Are you really a good person for extending a helping hand at almost no cost to yourself, and to a person you know personally? Are you a good person just because you were selfish enough to take advantage of your friend's situation to feel better about yourself?"

"Oh look! Now you've donated twenty dollars to charity! What a gracious move! You must be the personification of goodness. The world is distraught, hit by famine, slavery, destruction, and abuse, how nice of you to help out! Oh! Are you still thinking about the new state-of-the-art three-thousand dollar TV that you are buying tomorrow?"

"Hm…"

"Nevertheless, that's also just a pessimistic way to look at humans. They are complicated after all. So, let's play. I've thrown this one specimen into hell and back…" She chuckled darkly, but also bitterly. "Let's go further. Bound by your mortal coil, chained by your flaws, and encumbered by your mistakes… I am eager to see the places you'll go."

Maybe her eyes had been closed before, or maybe a window was opened to her soul, for suddenly, through the thawing darkness there came a pair of green-ish eyes glowing brightly - and the entire world changed.

"No Gods or Laws. Only man, and the wondrous depths of the human soul."

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

Chris felt himself slowly float back into consciousness.

Anyone else in this situation would have opened their eyes, stretched, yawned, and then examined their environment, as if awakening from a deep and restful sleep. Instead, this man kept himself calm and examined his surroundings using his senses. This was instinctual for him now, which was a must considering what he had to endure for the last few years.

There was pressure on the front of his body and the right side of his face, applied with something cool, hard, and dusty. He assumed that he was lying on the floor. His head was most likely tilted towards his left so that he could breathe. He could feel clothes on his body, but his left arm and side were… wet?

The smell in the air put him on edge. There was blood somewhere near him, he could tell. Fresh blood. _Am I wounded? No, I don't feel anything, though the nerves could be damaged from the burn. Am I in a battle? Am I captured?_ His memory was a bit hazy.

He tried to listen for the distant sound of weapon fire, guards talking, anything to explain his current predicament without alerting anyone to his awakening. What he heard instead, was the distant chatter of a… store. No, it sounded like stand owners calling out their wares, a marketplace. It was far away from his position, but sounded close enough to be within walking distance. Strange. Whenever he was incapacitated, his brothers would bring him to an isolated shelter in case of pursuers. Never somewhere so close to civilization.

The situation was new. Unfamiliar. He decided to wait for his memory to come back.

 _Ah, right._

The successful attack. The failed defense. The napalm carpet. Then... his death?

How was he still alive? There was no way for him to have survived that. He considered the possibility of someone else stepping in. If someone knocked the beam off course, they could have rescued him, then positioned him into a safer area. That could be it. After all, he was in a completely new environment. A savior would be the most logical explanation, even if this mysterious savior hasn't saved much other than a man who deserved worse than death.

The man moved very slightly to determine if there was anything on him. He didn't feel any shackles nor binds. That didn't mean he was not a prisoner, he could still be in a cell. To decide what he should do, he needed more information.

 _Or do I,_ he asked himself. He was so tired of the struggle. There's only so much a man can take before resigning himself to his fate. Five years ago, he was full of hope. Three years ago, he was determined. Two years ago, he was furious. Now, he was just defeated. Still… he wanted to live. Really live for once. To have the life he never did get…

He opened his eyes.

From his prone perspective, he saw cobblestone and dirt. A long time ago, it might have been a nicely paved floor, but time has long worn the tiles, and earth has squeezed into the cracks. Small adventurous plants have found home in the dirt-filled crevices.

He now could confirmed that he was lying on his front, with his head tilted to the side to breathe in the cool, musty air. The man noted that his previous assumptions were correct. His breathing, now deeper, agitated the dust on the ground and he sneezed.

The man felt sluggish, as if he was just waking up from a coma. He tried to move his right arm, and he was still able to twitch his fingers. They grasped loosely upon something cool and hard, but dusty. He took another moment to gather his strength.

 _I must have been asleep for a long time to have become this weak,_ he thought.

He felt a bit stronger now and awkwardly stumbled into a kneeling position. He placed his hands on his knees to keep himself still. He still felt weak. Letting his body rest for a moment, he looked around.

He seemed to be in a run-down alleyway between two wooden buildings. Shadows covered everything, but a streak of light from the sky revealed that it was still day. The wooden walls on each side were worn and unpainted, either because the color was weathered away or it hadn't been painted to begin with. Looking backwards, he could see that the alleyway led into a street, more run down houses, and then even further away behind the houses, were a row of trees. He couldn't tell if it was just a few trees or a forest because of the distance. Not a person in sight. He turned his head to look forwards. It led outside, to where all the noise was.

The man was confused. It was a strange place to leave a person like him, especially since he had been on the verge of death. The distant memory of the smoke and dust, fire and blood, lingered.

 _On that note, why do I feel so fine?_ He inspected himself.

He was wearing dirty jeans and worn out boots. On his upper body, he had a plain, old, dark green shirt. It also had a massive dark spot – _oh_. He dumbly noted that there was a large cut in the shirt, about where his left lung was, and blood had soaked into the cloth around the wound. That explained the wet feeling and the puddle he was lying in. There was a small knife in the pool of blood, most likely the weapon that made the wound (?). He identified it as a kind of tactical knife. The man also noted that the pool of blood was large enough for him to have died from blood loss. Strangely, he felt no pain and when he inspected his wound, he found clear skin. Not even a scar. Chris decided that this situation was making less and less sense.

A little further away, there was the sheath for the knife. It had straps that allowed it be secured against the thigh. Chris has seen something like this before, but only for women who preferred to be armed while wearing certain less… conservative garments.

He grabbed the knife and tried to get as much blood as he could off it. Dirt was used to soak up whatever fluids that were left behind. A dirty knife was better than a bloody knife, as the latter would raise a lot of questions. Then, he sheathed it and placed it within his jean pockets, which were surprisingly large. It made a large lump, which was uncomfortable and most likely strange, but he wasn't in any situation to care.

Chris looked towards the exit and hesitated. He should probably be cautious. He should take a moment right before the doorway into the light and listen. Then, he must quickly peak out and back in so that he may bait out trigger happy enemies. Afterwards, he must turn and go the other –

 _No… I am so tired… so tired of it! Tired of all the paranoia, tired of the fake cheers…_

He sneers at himself, ignores his instincts, and he walks forward into the light.

Sunshine blinds him for a moment and his muscles tense preemptively. He stands there, waiting for his eyes to adjust, but also for anything to happen. A gunshot? Knife in the stomach?

Nothing happens.

When his vision returns, he notices that he's in a little town. The buildings were old and worn - just as the walls from the alleyway had indicated - and they seemed to be only utilitarian. Signs and anything with color were poorly maintained. He could see the wilderness poking its head out from behind buildings, revealing just how untamed it was.

The children played on the streets and adults strolled around doing tasks. Most of the clothing they wore were grey and worn. There didn't seem to be many people out, even at such time of day. By comparing it to past towns he had visited, he guessed that there were around six thousand people living here, and about around a hundred were present.

Chris considered his priorities. Main mission: he must regroup with the rest of his… cell. Until then, survival and information. _Right._ _Information. Let's talk to someone._

He walks up to a nearby man standing beside the door of a run-down bar, drinking from an old animal skin canteen. At first no one paid the boy much attention.

 _Oh man he's tall._

The man noticed his approach. He kept his gaze on Chris as the boy approached.

" _Peace be upon you_." He tried Arabic first, expecting himself to be in the same general area where he'd almost died. However, his voice surprised him. It's higher pitched and more boyish than his normal voice. " _May I ask where I am?_ "

The man spat at his feet. "Get lost, kid. I know your kind." The stranger snapped at Chris, snarling in English. Chris was surprised at the rudeness.

"Sir, I don't want any tro – "

"Didn't you hear me, thief?" Everyone within the block turned; they were watching the exchange with weariness. "Get lost, or you'll be losing part of you." The man grabs at what Chris assumed was a yo-yo hanging from his belt and unclipped it. He pressed some kind of hidden switch. There was a snap-lock sound, and suddenly tiny blades snapped out.

Chris' eyes widened, and he quickly forced down his knee-jerk response to declare his innocence. "Sir, if you tell me what you think I've stolen, then I can – " He doesn't get to finish his sentence before the stranger's yo-yo flew at him. Combat experience allowed him to dodge to the side before the weapon was even close. He followed the maneuver with a few steps back to create some distance.

"You have combat training! Lying kids like you are always with those fucking bandits!"

Everyone around who had been staring now have formed distrust clear upon their faces. The mothers start pulling their children away, and not even the children were without wariness.

"Mommy, is that a stranger? Strangers are all bad, right?" Chris heard from within the retreating figures.

He has no idea why they seemed to hate him, which was a first for him. So when the armed stranger tried to make another move, he ran down the street and weaved between groups of glaring people.

"Look at that rascal go! Dirty thieves, running away from their due justice. As always." The stranger declared. "Ha! They thought we'd fall for their tricks twice. Men! Catch him! Show them our wrath!"

Others who were just standing and watching burst into action. Yelling their agreement with the first stranger, they charged to surround him.

Too bad for them, Chris was too fast. He darted between their legs and slipped through them like an eel.

"Fuck, this brat!"

The last two men trying to get him accidentally smashed into each other, and Chris used the opening to dart out of the crowd. Now that Chris was closer to the edge of the village, he could see that the area was enclosed in a thick wooden fence about as tall as the men.

The fence was composed of wooden planks jammed into the ground, but they were crudely cut. He scrambled onto a large wooden box against the wall, before quickly peeking behind himself. The men had disentangled themselves and were attempting to catch up to him. Focusing back onto the planks, he found large handholds. He took advantage of that and sent himself over to freedom before any of the men could do him harm.

"He got away!"

"Well at least that brat is out."

"We need to figure out how he got in. Guards! What have I said about CONSTANT VIGILAN – "

Chris blinked.

After going over the fence, he had landed in the circle of cleared land separating the inner circle and whatever that laid outside it. Now that there was nothing obstructing his view, he could see what the outer circle was.

What laid beyond was pure, unmoderated failure. He didn't know why, but that was the first thing that came to mind. A sense of loss and defeat that just stunk, hanging in the air and almost made Chris gag.

Ruined houses lay everywhere. Some looked to have been burned, some crushed. To Chris' horror, this little town must have been once a thriving community. Six thousand people? No, it must have been home to a million at least. He took a look behind him. The inner circle, from the size of it, and the population density that he had witnessed, he'd say only sheltered about only… a thous… No. Three hundred max. Ten thousand… to three hundred.

In the present, wilderness has overtaken the houses, and trees grew through roofs revealing just how early on this area had been abandoned. Past them, Chris saw an incredibly tall, possibly concrete, wall of about fifty meters in height that protected the city from enemies. Well, it should have, if the large section of rubble didn't show its failure of doing so.

A great city, turned to ruins.

Chris didn't know what to think. There were no cities on Earth that were protected by such walls. If there was, it would have been famous, especially one as old as this one seemed. Some woman would probably even marry it and make the news.

Random thoughts aside, Chris also knew that he shouldn't be out in the open in case the men had guns. While he was thinking, he did not stop running, and was now heading towards the closest building that had been overgrown, instead of the burned building where salvage was most likely destroyed.

He walked through a hole on the side where the wall had collapsed. To his dismay, it looked like it had already been looted. His eyes scanned every single inch to make sure, but they suddenly widened as they focused on what looked like a cyan piece of cloth in a corner and –

He gasped, his eyes wide, and stumbled backwards. Memories tried to jump to the forefront, but he forced them back like he had always done.

No. It wasn't what he thought it was, it was just a cyan piece of cloth. But the shade of color fit too much. His heart was pounding in his chest and he took deep breaths and calmed himself down. He let himself fall onto the floor.

It was strange for him to have such vivid recollections again. He thought he was over it. Chris had spent years coming to terms with it, and there was no way that such a _color_ sparked a flashback.

 _Maybe…_

He thought about his other mystery. The drinking man had called him a kid and Chris knew that he did not look like a kid. He thought it could have been just an older man referring to a much younger one. However, now that Chris has time to inspect himself, he notes that all his scars were gone. He was also much smaller, something he had not noticed before because of all the excitement. He had thought at first it was because everyone else were just tall. Ridiculously tall.

His hands grabbed a lock of his own hair and moved it so that he could see a little of the color. It was brown. Chris stilled. Then he hurriedly patted at his face. His jaw felt wrong. Wrongly shaped.

 _Everything is different!_

Without looking at a mirror, he would not be able to determine for sure, but somehow he had grown younger, changed hair colors, and seemingly had plastic surgery on his facial bones too. Was it possible this enormous change had also affected his mind?

 _Did I get caught by the government and swapped into an android body?_ He tried to joke to himself. _Hello, my name's Chris. I'm the Ghost in this Shell. Yeah the japs did this, they also made an invisibility suit that makes me look naked. Why? No idea._ It was a weak attempt.

He gave a small, quick, forced chuckle that just as quickly died.

 _Plastic surgery is most likely, but I'll need to look at my own reflection first. If I explore more, maybe I can find the essentials for survival , which will likely involve reflective substances. Like water._

Chris exited the house and made his way to the next one, this one was located deeper within the outer circle. Still nothing useful. He rummaged through every drawer (that wasn't removed and taken) and even checked under loose rotten floorboards. Nothing, not even rotten food. There weren't even any broken pieces of good quality materials, as if thousands of salvagers had past though before him and taken every single scrap of recoverable material.

Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a glow. Tracking it, he saw that it was coming from another nearby room. Deciding to be cautious, he hid around the corner and peaked over.

It was a mural. A strange large mural, covered with drawings and glowing as if it was radioactive. On the very left was depicted two dragons, one yellow, one black, each circling what must be a planet. Next, was… calamity? One of the dragons were shown roaring and people were running away. The closer humans looked like they were disintegrating. Following that… was growth? Or maybe human evolution? It reminded him of those pictures in books showing how humans had evolved from apes by drawing each intermediary species. Then a…

Chris stilled, completely confused. He looked at the previous images, before looking back again. The previous pictures had given him the idea that this was a creation story. However, this last image was of… marriage?

A man stood wielding a staff and a… sling(?) stood before a woman with a sword and a… halo(?). The woman was on one knee, offering a heart to the man, while the man was touching the top of the woman's head with his staff.

Or maybe it was knighting? Confusing. He walked closer, believing it to be some kind of fluorescent paint.

Suddenly, a stone beneath the last carving lit up. It was amber colored and round like a gemstone. Chris jumped back and it disappeared. Did he activate a trap? He glanced around, making sure everything was the way it was supposed to be.

Whatever, he had to find necessities for his survival first. Murals can wait. Plus, who knows what kind of paint they used. Maybe it was poisonous. Strange though… why was the mural completely untouched?

As he left the building, he never saw the mural completely fading away as his distance grew, nor how it revealed a gaping hole in the wall. The paint had been floating in the air.

He decided to try for the houses that were a bit further, but then noticed a nice stone stairway winding around the side of a building up to its roof. It looked sturdy enough. He headed for that instead. The view from the high ground could reveal a lot about this new land.

After carefully testing the stones to make sure they didn't move away under him, he cautiously walked all the way onto the roof. The roof itself was empty. It was mostly flat cement, but the edges were curved up to prevent items from sliding off the roof. There were large holes in the protrusions, water drains whose edges had eroded away.

The view from the roof was as he expected. He was high up enough that he could tell for certain that everything in the outer circle was in ruins. The inner circle, the village, suddenly felt even smaller than before, surrounded by a sea of gray rubble and green vegetation.

He still couldn't look past the outer walls. Once upon a time, they must have been a wonder. They were just so incredibly tall. The side that Chris could see, the inner side, was holed with an immense number of embrasures. _Their enemies must have been strong_ , Chris decided. _Or monsters._

The wall's current defeated state invoked a deep melancholic feeling in Chris. It was strange seeing something so mighty be brought so low.

 _The stronger you are, the higher the pedestal you are put on, the further you have to fall…_

Something caught his eye.

His head snapped to his right, where the stairs to the roof were. Someone or something had followed him up the stairs.

Then he resisted the urge to facepalm.

From his angle, he could see most of the way down until the stairway curved around the building. This means he had a clear view of a plain cardboard box inching towards him. There were two holes cut out from the front of the small-ish box, most likely acting as eye-holes. Having noticed that he or she was caught, the box stopped moving and plopped down onto the ground.

Chris really wanted to take out his knife, but was honestly bewildered at having this situation happen to him. It contrasted too hard with the life or death struggle he'd faced just a few minutes ago, and for the last five years of his life. He instead decided to just play cautious.

"…hello?" He tried.

The box stayed still.

Chris sighed, exasperated. "You are not fooling anyone."

It was still unmoving.

He suddenly had an idea. "Well, seeing as you are a completely inanimate object, I will ignore you like all the other inanimate objects around." He strolled casually towards it. "By the way, do you know if there is a water source around? Oh silly me, you are but an inanimate object." He stopped right by the box. "Oh my. I am certainly tired from the hard walking I just did." He then gasped loudly with fake surprise. "How convenient! There is just a box to sit on right here! I will – "

"Ah don't sit on me, I get it! I get it!" A figure hurriedly crawled out from underneath right before Chris turned the box flat. "So mean!"

It was a young girl, merely a child. Maybe around eight to ten years old. She was dressed in a worn little green dress, highlighted by white swirly designs. The bottom half seemed to have been torn off in what Chris guessed was an attempt to increase her own mobility. It revealed the white shorts she was wearing underneath, though it was most likely greyed out like the rest of her attire.

Chris' eyes didn't catch her footwear, which was just a pair of sneakers, before they noticed her very strange and out of place hair. Dyed hair normally looked fake, but her long straight hair looked so even that they had to be real. Or maybe a wig.

He looked into her red – _Red?!_ – eyes. He voiced the obviously most pressing question.

"Why are you wearing a mint-colored wig?"

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

 **Updated: June 15, 2018**

 **Old A/N: Ayyyyy. I've had the plan for this story written for about a month, but thought it made no sense. You tell me if it makes sense, especially when more of the plot is revealed. I think this is meta-fiction, lol, and no its not because of a dimensional traveled main character.**

 **Warning! Adult themes! Warning! Yes there will be more gore, but it will be mostly only be in flashbacks and be sort of mild because of the protagonist's preference to forget the worst of it.**

 **Also.**

 **Any similarities to** _ **specific**_ **real life people is merely a coincidence. I need to say this here and will probably say it more, especially as more of his past is revealed.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Updated June 4, 2019**

 **A/N (December 2nd, 2018): Fixes + new Raven scene!**

 **A/N (old): Do I need a disclaimer every single chapter? Hopefully not. Sounds annoying.**

 **Beta: Courtland!**

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

Chris still could not believe that the hair was natural. The humongous wall, the natural mint hair, his changed face… it was as if he was in another world. Of course, it's impossible for him to actually have crossed universes. That kind of thing only happened in books and fanfiction. On the other hand, mint colored hair. _What, is her name Emerald too? This an anime?_

Chris stared at a little stream that went through the breach in the walls while contemplating his situation. He remembered reading somewhere that coma patients sometimes created their own world while they were comatose and imagined themselves living in it, so maybe this was the case. The man – now somehow physically a boy – didn't see any other explanation for his situation.

 _If I am in a coma, then there isn't any harm in wasting time in a fictional world then. I am curious as to what my mind will create._

After their face to face greeting, the boy learned that the girl's name was Mint as they sat down by the edge of the roof to talk.

"Seriously, Mint?" It was mostly to himself. _My brain must be so original._

"What? A lot of people name their kids that way!"

After a bit of conversation where she warmed up to him, he found that she was made an orphan when her parents disappeared a few days ago.

"And they just left you?"

"Well, they said they had to do something really fast and left to the forest. Dad went first, but didn't come back." She frowned sadly at her feet. "Then mom went to check on him and didn't come back too. But I can't look for them… they told me to stay. I don't want to be a bad girl."

Chris hoped they were alive, but from the sound of it…

Being a foreigner, the villagers had also kicked her out. It had been a trying time for her. Luckily, an old man took pity on her and showed her a secret passage into the village, which he uses to offer her food and water. Shelter was easily found in the form of all the rundown houses in the outer circle.

Chris was alarmed when he heard about the old man, but supposedly Mint didn't have to do anything in return, so he reserved his judgement for now.

When Mint in return asked him about his origins, he wasn't sure what to say and quickly made up a story about poisonous mushrooms and amnesia. Mint just nodded through his explanation. He had a feeling that she didn't understand a lot of the words he used, and in return, also didn't understand the story. And that was fine, it was one of the reasons why he used such big words.

"Yeah! Um-eat-a! Yeah, that would suck to have it."

"No, it's um-knee-tia."

"Yeah, that thing. The thing that I know what it is."

"…which is?"

"The thing. Uh. It's like… if you had a big bro and he had a baby girl."

"…are you talking about a niece?"

It was strange that she wasn't more suspicious of him. A lone little girl – _a pretty one too_ – would have attracted all the wrong kind of attention; her parents really should have warned her about strangers.

 _Then again,_ Chris thought, _I don't think they expected their own disappearance either. They probably thought they could protect her for a bit longer._

Taking all that into consideration, Mint had been immensely lucky the past few days. The act of pushing her out of the village removed her from possible harm from the paranoid villagers and the only person who had been willing to reach out seemed to be doing it in good faith.

Chris had also learned from the girl that the villagers were almost always within their walls. Mint had only ever seen one person exit. She told Chris that the only way to get food and water was from the old man through a secret passageway. It brought to question how the villagers got food, and if they received shipments of food, what could they even produce in a such a small rural village that was good enough to trade for the food?

Also, why did they have to stay within their walls? Was there something dangerous outside? That was a question that he needed an answer soon, seeing as how Chris was seemingly a child now and his only ally was a little girl. They would both be defenceless out here, even so more dangerous if Chris was left in the dark for much longer; how could he plan to save them both if he didn't even know what he was up against? So Chris asked her about it.

"Well, yes, of course! The Grimm!" Mint answered him. "Duh!"

Chris stared at her.

She looked sheepish. "Right… the knee-tia thingy. Uhhhh, well, they are like big, big, big," she waved her arms around and puffed up her rosy cheeks to emphasize the size, " biiiggg monsters that walk around outside the cities. Huntsmen kill them!"

Chris looked at her as if she had grown a second head, but she was too engrossed in her description to notice the look he was giving her.

"They are really big, bad, and scary! They are black and have white things on them, and nobody knows where they have come from. The Grimm are very strong, but not as strong as a huntsman! I wanna be one of them, - a huntsmen that is, not a monster, nobody wants to be a monster – but mom and – " She stopped and looked down at her toes. Her hands started to fidget. Her face downcast. "…and dad didn't want me to." She whispered the last part.

The boy didn't know what to say and sat silently beside her. He was certain he was supposed to say something.

Mint' hands tightened into fists. There seemed to be some part of her that knew what must have happened to her parents.

"…I'm…" Chris tried, but his voice felt suddenly dry and unused, even if he hadn't spent the last few minutes talking. He was supposed to be used to loss, but maybe being in this dream world had made him more susceptible to emotions. "I'm sorry."

 _If I'm in a coma, and this is my mind, then maybe this is how I'm dealing with everything. Telvinder, sis, the terrorism… maybe I'm finally facing these issues head on. Is Mint some representation of an aspect of myself?_

The girl sniffled beside him, ignorant of his inner thoughts, but shed no tear.

"A – anyways, Chris – I still say that's a more stupider name than Mint – what will you do now?" She wiped her eyes with her slightly dirty right hand as she turned to face him.

"No wait, let me ask you anot – " He wanted to ask about the Grimm.

"Na-uh! I answered a lot of yours, my turn to ask stuff!"

Chris sighed. "Alright." _A fair exchange._

"Yay! So what will you do now? Are you staying here with me?"

According to his story, he was an orphan from another village who went too hungry one day and ate some bad mushrooms, and the next thing he knew he was in this village with people chasing him. Very unlikely story, but it seemed that Mint trusted others very easily.

"Well, it's not like I'll be able to enter this village and ask for directions. They seem to hate every stranger."

"Yes!" The girl cheered.

Chris quickly pressed on with another question. "If there are these monsters around, why have none attacked us? I don't see any of these 'huntsmen' around to protect us." _Can't be made up, she seems pretty sane, and she is not that young._

"Well… uh… lemme remember. I think at school they said that Grimm are attracted only when we are really sad, really angry, or… oh this was on a test last month…" She squinted her eyes in thought. "…feeling really bad? Yeah I think I did bad on that test." Her eyes suddenly widened and she sat straight. "Ugh… My friends also think I'm dead!"

"On that note, why haven't you gone back home? Why haven't you been taken care of by the authorities, the government? Or call other relatives? There has to be some way for you to contact help, isn't there?"

"Well, the Kingdoms don't do much outside of their big cities. Something about not enough money – which must be a lie! I heard they get millions every month! And I don't have a scroll to call for help, and I don't think the villagers will allow us to use theirs."

Chris realized that he forgot something very obvious. He was too used to the government back in his old home, where there was child protection services, free healthcare, and help was merely one call away. However, that did not mean every single government was like that. It was possible that in this world he was imagining, the government reflected the lawlessness he had lived through during his past grueling five years.

"Alright. Do you at least know if your relatives will be looking for you?"

Mint looked unsure. "Me and my parents were trying to get to Vacuo through this route that used much less money. Mom was worrying because of how dangerous this area was. There's also a lot of places where scrolls can't get signal," she noticed his inquiring look, "Scrolls are like little boxes you can talk to people on, and play video games. Anyways, we haven't been able to call the rest of my family for a few days. I'm sure they are looking… but it's a big place and I also don't want them hurt." She looked at her feet.

"What about the old man?"

"Uh… oh right! He said that for a call that far away, he'd need to use the CCT tower – it's like a big tower that sends signals realllllyyyyy far. But theirs is old and all that, so the calls are extremely limited. He said he'll try to call, but he'll have to make up a good reason why to get priar… pri-or-ty, or wait a whole year."

"Priority."

"Yeah, that."

Chris took a moment to gather up his thoughts. _So this world has gigantic monsters called Grimm that are attracted by negativity. They are everywhere. Mint here lost her parents to the forest. If she finds them, then maybe I can beg a favour and have them to take me to one of the big cities to find work._ He looked at her thoughtfully.

"Think you get can me a meeting with this old man? I'll try and see if I can get some equipment from him to start hunting and winning our bread. With enough money, I could arm myself and then try to find your parents."

"Really Chris?" She turned to him, her eyes wide with hope. "I do want mom and dad, but… I don't want to lose another person too…"

He smiled. "Don't worry, maybe you'll hate me in a few days time. Then you won't be sad if I'm gone." He chuckled at the end, but it sounded empty to himself. _Oh man, I sound like an angsty fifteen year old._

"But Chris, you seem like a good person! You want to help me!"

He replied by putting on a melancholic smile, but didn't say more. "So, meeting?"

"Ah, yes, this way! I think it's almost time for my next visit too!"

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

"…this is because I called your name stupid, isn't it?" mumbled Chris.

He was crawling through a narrow underground passage behind Mint, who was leading from the front. It smelled cool and earthly. There was no light, so the two could only feel their way forward.

It turned out that there was a secret entrance leading to numerous underground passages. The path to get to it was through one of the collapsed houses. They had to fit through many tight crevices on the way before they could get to the hidden trapdoor. On top of that, the trapdoor itself was hidden away beneath many layers of cloth and broken wooden parts. It was well hidden.

"Uh… no…?" came the sheepish reply.

Chris sighed. At least he now knew why her clothes were so faded. She must have explored these passages and gotten dust and dirt all over herself. It was surprising that he was even able to make out the green.

"By the way, there's also a metal thing in the roof."

"What?" Chris asked as he hit said metal thing straight on. "Ow!"

Mint continued forward. "Uhhhhhh, sorry, I meant the ceiling. He he. My bad."

He glared at her, but she wouldn't have been able to see the glare even if she had been looking at him. The boy rubbed his head using one arm and used the other to feel for any more low hanging metal.

They continued crawling for a while longer, and Chris indeed found more of the weird metal things on the way. With his hands and not his head this time. He couldn't tell what they were exactly, except for guessing that they were containers of sorts. He decided he'd have a look again if he ever found a flashlight. They could be just some things leftover from the city infrastructure.

Finally, light started to seep in, showing that they were nearing the exit. They crawled out moments later into a brightly lit room, and Chris had to squint his eyes to let them adjust.

When he could see again, he found that they were in some kind of small cube-like metal room. There was a door, but no handle. Behind him were entrances to many more tunnels, though it appeared the tunnel Mint took him through had been the smallest one.

 _Wait, what is that in the top right corner? Some –_ he thought as he patted away the dust on him.

"And then I knock on the door and he'll come and get it!" Mint moved to do as she said, but the door opened by itself and revealed the old man.

The old man was dressed in a lazy knitted sweater, some grey warm pants and a pair of cozy black slippers. His face was rugged and had just as many scars as it had wrinkles, with the white color of his hair showing additionally his age. He was scowling at Chris. In his hands was a shotgun.

"Min'! Wha' ha' ah said 'bout bringing s'rangers in here!" He then turned and yelled at Chris in an almost stereotypical old geezer voice. "Get out or ah will make you get out!"

Mint rushed to stand in front of Chris protectively. "No! Stop, M. Magpie! He's not bad like the other one! He doesn't know where his mom and dad are either, just like me!"

"Ha! Another lie to get in our walls!" He seemed completely unconvinced.

Chris didn't know what to say, especially in front of a shotgun. He took a few steps back. "Uh… sir… if you don't want me here, that's alright, but I – "

"GET OUTTA MAH HOUSE YAH TROUBLEMAKAH!"

The boy stumbled backwards from the yell and scrambled backwards as the old man took threatening steps forward. Mint started to feel a bit desperate and waved her arms around, trying to defuse the situation.

"M. Magpie! He just wants something to fish with!" The old man paused and looked at Mint. "He wants to work so that we can both get out of here! Also, so that we can – "

Before she could finish her sentence, the old man had come to a conclusion, and he exited the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

Chris stared at Mint, who stared at the door. They were both stunned.

Then the door opened again. A bundle the size of a beach ball flew out, hitting Chris straight in the face, knocking him down. The door closed.

"Ow… why in the face again…" He mumbled as he lay on the ground. Luckily, it seemed to be patted, so the impact didn't do much damage to the food. Nor to his skull.

Mint walked to take the package from the ground. She smiled sheepishly. "Looks like M. Magpie doesn't really like you…" She received a glare back and winced. "…are you alright?"

He stayed on the ground. "I think I'll lie here for a bit." Chris felt like he had gotten three heart attacks in quick succession, and all within the past minute.

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

A while later, they were back in the outer circle of the city. Chris, being the larger of the two, was carrying the bundle.

"Did he give you the big fishing rod? I remember a giant one he had hanging on the wall from the last time I was there! It was very big and pretty! And high tech too! It had an aiming thing, and a rocket powered hook, and a…"

"No."

Mint paused in her walking. She pouted at him. "Aren't you fun. You are like a really boring grownup!" She widened her eyes and tried to look sad. "Be funner pleaseee? It was just a joke!"

Her companion took one look at her, sighed, before continuing on without another word. His lack of a response made Mint pout harder. She followed in his footsteps, dejected.

If this really was a coma world, then Chris didn't want to wake up. The meeting with the old man reminded him that he wasn't just dreaming. He had created a completely new world in his head! The sensation of pain, the smell of the tunnels, the sheer exasperation he could feel in relation to Mint… it all felt so real.

The hatred for strangers the villagers had displayed was weird, but understandable if the bandits really did exist. One would have thought that in a world besieged by monsters, humanity would band closer together, however it appeared not so.

Still, the important point was, the elder and the villagers didn't hate him because of some action he'd done in the past. In this made up world, it was as if he was starting anew. He could try to make up for the mistakes he had made. It wouldn't be real, but it would feel good. Feel real good. But did he really want to commit himself to a fake world?

 _On the other hand, I am not sure what I am living for in the real world. Maybe time here will give me an answer? What if my subconscious is trying to tell me something here? Is this how comas work?_

He stared straight ahead. No answers came to him.

Mint still followed him a few steps behind, arms crossed and pouting.

While he didn't know what was exactly going on, he could work on the present. First, if he helped the girl, he could learn more about this strange world. Through her connection with the old man, he could get help for his immediate survival, and maybe even get to civilisation. Get a normal job. Start helping people. Real help. Root for equality or something. Become a rescue helicopter driver. A fireman.

Hm. Mint. When he leaves, should he bring her? Well, the girl was not that important anyways. Chris has used enough people and discarded even more. What's one more girl, for a new beginning? If he sees a way to save both of them, he decides that he will. But nothing more. He can't help anyone if he is dead, after all.

 _Yes. That sounds like a plan. One life for many._

"Forgive me, my Lord." He mumbled under his breath.

Once they arrived on the roof, Chris sat down in the center of the space and opened the pack to Mint's excited encouragement. She never knew what she would get from the bundles, and this time, there would be extra items because of Chris.

Chris took out the first item.

"A folding bucket? For the fish?"

"Yes. It will be helpful."

He reached in for more.

"A tube of string?!"

"It's a spool of fishing line."

"Oh! And this! It's… a pair of scissors?"

"No Mint… it's a fishing line cutter. It also has many other features, like this compass here. It can also become a screwdriver if I move these parts around… Like a swiss army knife." Chris made the pocket tool transform into a few different forms. He noted that it was made of some strange, most likely cheap, metal-plastic composite.

"Wow! It's like those weapons the huntsmen use!"

"And that's it for the tools."

"What do you mean that's it?!" Mint walked closer to rummage through the bag. "But how will you fish with just lines!" She puffed up her cheeks, getting angry in his stead.

Chris tried to keep up the poker face he'd had on for the past few minutes, but ultimately failed. He cracked a smile. She was so childish. "Mint, don't worry. I can work with this." He reassured, confident in his own skills. He had to fish for food many times, once even with a spear. "At least he trusted me enough with the utility gear – the scissors – it's already a big help." He put everything back, except for the spool of fishing line and the tool, which he laid on the floor. "I need some kind of branch to start."

"I have one branch." Came a voice, followed by some quiet movement. "You can choose where you want the branch to hit, bandits!"

Chris and Mint turned their heads to see a few teenage boys blocking the stairs. They dressed in old grey, but functional clothing, just like the others from the village. Each was skinny and armed with weapons ranging from a branch to long ranged weapons like a bow.

The one in front, wielding the only pistol, glared at the branch-wielder. "You fucking idiot! I could have shot them using dad's pistol before they even knew we were here!"

"Ah, sorry boss, but I wanted my one liner!"

Chris narrowed his eyes. He kept his hands in sight as not to alarm them, but shuffled his body so that he may spring into action at any time. His eyes darted around and analysed deeper his environment. A rock there, if thrown by a boy, would knock out a human if it hit the skull - and it would deal a sizeable trauma if it hit the chest. It was only a few meters away .

 _No wind_ , Chris took note next. He needed dust or sand, just some kind of powder, that he could throw into the attacker's eyes. Very close and within reach. The stairs themselves weren't too far away, and he could sprint to the boys in a very short amount of time. "Why are you attacking us? Who are you?"

"Ha! We are the Doom Squad!" The leader declared, pointing his pistol to the ground so that he could make a pose. His gang followed up with similar cheesy poses. "My father might not have caught you, but I, the great Captain Iris, has done what he could not! We will deal justice upon you little shits like you, girly, who have sabotaged our glorious walls – "

 _Huh, Mint did something to them, or at least they think she did,_ Chris realized. _There could be more to her story than just been kicked out. I'll ask her later._

"…nd they haven't done a thing! Can you believe those adults, always…"

Chris blinked. It looked like the leader was currently doing a dramatic monologue. The sitting boy looked behind the leader and found that all his minions (Chris counted three) were nodding along with almost equal enthusiasm. The lone boy started to sweat-drop at their interactions, but knew this was his chance.

In one fluid movement, his left hand threw the dust into the boys' eyes, and his right arm pushed Mint away, before he rolled to the boys' right. Mint fell over onto her back with an 'eep' that went unheard under all the surprised shouts of the four boys. They rubbed at their eyes, some of them dropping their weapons. Chris took advantage and sprinted towards them. He took out his knife.

 _Wait, no, if I kill them the villagers may start hunting us for real._

A split second before he could slit the leader's throat, he twisted the knife so that the pommel hit first. His target choked from the blow. Swiftly, Chris yanked the pistol from him and kicked him into his friends before he could even put his arms around his neck. They lost balance and all fell backwards, becoming a ball of twisted limbs and screams. Chris lost sight of them as they fell off the stair's turn, but heard the thump as they landed on the ground.

"Mint! Get up!" He commanded her, and she broke out of her surprised trance to scramble to her feet. "Put everything back in the bag and run! I'll catch up!" He ran after the boys and jumped off the ledge, not waiting for her response.

The building they were on was only about two stories high. The turn in the stairs was about halfway, so Chris fell only one story down. He landed deftly on his feet, bending his knees to absorb the shock, beside the boys who were struggling to disentangle themselves from each other. Each of them groaning in pain.

Chris looted what he could off them - they were too disoriented to resist. Then, after going through their pockets, he looked around for Mint and ran after her, leaving the "Doom Squad" mostly intact. Their parents would surely not be happy they had lost a gun.

Mint opened her mouth to say something as he caught up beside her, but he shushed her. "We don't want them to know which direction we went. Let's go further, but remember, if you want to talk, murmur." He whispered. "Also, package?"

She showed him the bundle in her arms. "Got it, don't worry," she whispered back. "You stole all their stuff?" The girl stared at all the things he was holding in his own arms. There was the gun, the ammo pouch for it, the stick, some candy bars, a butter knife, a bow, and some arrows in a quiver. "Wow, you are so awesome… everything that just happened… wow, you are like a superhero…" Her expression reflected her awe.

He smiled back.

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

The black haired woman lounged backwards on the top of her sleeping bag, eyelids closed over red eyes. The woman wore a shallow cut black and red dress. An armored girdle belt went around her waist. Her onyx sheath, and her sword, lay hazardly sideways on the crowded stolen fancy night table beside her. She grimaced.

She was alone in her tent. All around her she was surrounded by a large assortment of stolen goods in various crates, from tacky chalices to a box of her favorite band of beef jerky on the side. It made sense, as she was a bandit. It was basically her job to relieve people of their things, and she was damn good at her job.

However, those were not skills that she needed. What she needed…

Her hands tightened into fists.

"Raven!" One of her underlings entered the tent. He was a man of average features dressed in a stolen washed out shirt and pants, easily forgettable. "Vernal is ba…" He suddenly stopped.

The tip of a crimson blade hovered over his larynx. So close that the dust on the blade was primed by his aura. He held his breath, not daring to breathe.

Raven Branwen glared him down, holding the sword outstretched and in midst of its sword form. She pulled her blade back a little. "Yes?"

If he was a lesser man, he would be shaking. "Sorry boss woman, but Vernal is back from her mission, and I thought that you would like to know…"

The bandit leader swiped her blade to the side, sending the dust to ignite harmlessly in mid air, before sheathing it. Coincidentally, it was right by the man who interrupted her rest. He took a surprised step back.

"You thought well. Tell her to come to me if she is unhurt."

The bandit knew not to show weakness. He nodded, patting away a few stray embers that had landed on himself, and left as confidently as he could.

She stared at his retreating back in contemplation. He did not mention the others she had sent with Vernal.

Good.

The woman turned back to her bedside to pick-up her leggings and boots and proceeded to get dressed.

When the little seven year old Vernal entered the tent, Raven had moved to her table. It was low and stylized, made to be kneeled at. Surrounding her were traditional Branwen tapestries mixed in with stolen ones. She was meditating, though her eyes opened the moment the flaps of the tent at the entrance were parted.

"Vernal. Report."

"Complete success," the child said as arrogantly as a seven year old could. "There are three turrets on the left of the villa…"

"The important things first, Vernal."

"Deader than dust."

Raven smiled, and it had teeth. "Well done."

Vernal puffed up her chest in response, feeling warm at being praised. "Ah… Raven, I ha' a question though…"

"Speak. Do not waste my time."

"Sorry." The child tried to squash down all her fear. "But why did they have to die? They may be a bit ruthless, but they were still tribesmen…"

Raven gave a chuckle at her naivety. "Vernal, Vernal." She said condescendingly. "The Branwen tribe, above all else, respects strength. All kinds of strength. Be it physical strength." In one swift motion, she stabbed her sword straight through the carpet and about a foot of earth. Vernal jumped in surprise. "Spiritual strength." Her other hand raised above the table and formed into a fist. Aura concentrated so hard it became visible. "Or mental strength." She let go of her sword and stopped focussing her aura. "However, many people tend to forget the last kind. Can you guess what it is?"

Vernal blinked. "Uh… strength of will?"

"No. That can be classified under spiritual strength. The last one is strength of unity." Raven motioned at the rest of the bandit camp that they could see through the open tent flap. "Television shows of the weak city folk harp on about friendship and love, but that is not all wrong. United, strong men can become even stronger. A spear may hold one person at bay, but a phalanx can hold armies. The two I sent with you, however, were weak links. One was weak in body, the other weak in mind. A chain only breaks at its weakest link… so I removed them."

Vernal nodded, following the logic.

"Now, Vernal, it leaves you as the weakest."

The child struggled to keep herself composed underneath Raven's intense gaze.

"I do hope, for your sake, that it won't be forever." Raven brushed a lock aside. "Now leave me. I have more important matters to attend to."

Something about amber...

 **A/N (December 2nd, 2018): Is she supposed to be likeable? Maybe. However, she is… yeah you get it.**

 **Old A/N: Is he supposed to be likeable? Not really. However, he is supposed to be relatable. Unsure of how well I'm doing on that front.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Updated June 4, 2019**

 **Beta: Courtland!**

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

Daylight was starting to fade, so Chris and Mint took shelter in one of the many abandoned houses. It was far away enough from the inner circle that nobody should be able to find them. Chris still put up noisy traps around to warn him if anything were to approach them in the night.

Chris took inventory and found that they had enough food for about three days. Depending on the amount of fish that he could catch, their supplies could last them about a week.

For supper, they had crackers and a can of tuna. They didn't want to give away their position, so decided against a fire to cook anything on.

"Can you teach me how to fight like you do?" Mint asked. She took another cracker, smudged tuna over it, and took a bite. Just as she bit the tuna decided to not stick and fall off.

Chris smiled at her pout. "Be careful, don't waste our supplies." He ate his cracker in one bite. "I don't think I'll be a good teacher."

"Why not?"

"You are too small. We fight too differently." Even if he has lost a lot of his height in the strange transition, he was still a lot bigger than Mint.

Her face fell.

"Nevertheless…"

Her eyes lit up with hope.

"What I can do, is help you learn the mentality."

Her face fell again. "What?! But – but – but I want to learn how to beat up bad guys! Show me the moves!"

"Maybe it is because I don't know martial arts. All you saw me do was blind some rascals then kick them down the stairs."

Chris struggled to keep his smile off his face as his companion looked like she was having a facial muscle spasm. He didn't know why he was teasing her, but it was fun.

"Kidding." He smirked internally. Mint's scowl and pout combination in response was about as effective as a little puppy's. "Still, whatever techniques that I can teach you will only work if you have the right mindset. It all starts there."

"Sounds boring."

"Mint, it's very important." His patience was starting to wear thin.

"Ughhhh. But – "

"No." He was resolute as he stared into her brown eyes.

"What if I – "

"No."

"You are not even hearing me – "

"No, and it's final, Lily. I will – "

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

" – _not be swayed! This is not a game sis, this is real life! They are cruel people, monsters!" Chris cried._

 _Lily stood in front of him, her arms crossed. Her eyes were brown, reflecting her own will that is strong and grounded like the earth. "I know that they are monsters. That is why we must stop them. You are there, at the center of their operation, the perfect spy. You know what they do. You know that the government can't stop them because of how well they hide and the way they are organized. That is where we come in."_

" _But I can't risk you or myself! I am certain there is a way I can come home without getting a target painted on my back. Just give me some time…"_

" _What about all the attacks? What about all the innocents? As long as they exists, there will be more death and destruction."_

" _But what about us? What about your future? You are a brilliant scientist, the golden child of the family! Think of our parents!"_

" _And so you will heartlessly leave everyone else to die? When you have the ability to change it?" She tilted her head, completely unconvinced. Her hair, ever so well taken care of, moved to cover her face and she brushed it away._

" _I – I may have the chance, but it's too risky!"_

" _Have you forgotten about all you told me? The hollow town? The massacre at the town square? The bomb in subway – "_

" _I remember! I remember!" Chris cried, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. "I just wish everything could be easy. Sending you the info, giving anonymous tips, saving the two women…"_

 _Lily leaned against the wall. "You know as well as I that we can't do that anymore. They have agents in the government and trackers online."_

" _Still…"_

" _Chris. Leave this to me. You can trust me." She stopped leaning against the wall and stood straight. A cocky smile was on her face._

" _I want to – but I also don't! I – I – "_

" _Little brother, I know what I'm doi – "_

" _I can't just let you sto – "_

 _She walked close to Chris and put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't you trust in me?"_

 _He shook it off. "Fine!" He yelled. Chris walked away._

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

 _Lily… Lily! LILY!_ Chris cried inside his mind. The memory struck him hard. There was a load of heavy regret attached to it that felt strangely raw, even if he had gotten over them once. It tortured him with dramatic irony, making him feel like a spectator who knew something was going to go wrong, and was screaming at the oblivious main character to do something.

 _How could I have done that?! I was stupid, stupid, stupid! Letting her do it, just because of some petty annoyance. If you truly loved her, you would have stayed! You would have stopped her idiotic scheme! You idiot! You selfish bastard!_

He found himself panting on all fours, having fallen. His heart beat strongly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Eyes wide and unfocused.

 _Sis… You have always looked out for me. And the one time I could have helped you, I… abandoned you._

"Uhhhh… Chris, are you ok?" He looked up into Mint's worried red eyes. She was blurry for some reason. "It was so weird, you just stopped saying what you were saying and stared at me, and then dropped to the ground. And now you are crying? What happened?"

He quickly wiped away the wetness and got up. "I – it's nothing. I think I'm…" He quickly thought of something. "I think I'm getting some of my memories back." The boy watched as his companion grinned, before suddenly realizing something and struggled to keep the grin up.

"Oh! That's… um… very… good?" It wasn't very convincing, very forced.

Chris stared at her.

She nervously played with the fabric of her shorts. "Uh… What did you remember?"

He wasn't too sure what she was nervous about, so he pushed the thought aside in order to make up an answer. "I remembered something about my home." Mint's face fell, but Chris had closed his eyes to make it seem like he was scrounging up a memory, and didn't see it. "It wasn't good. I don't know if I can ever go back."

 _Close enough to the truth so that it's not a straight up lie, and still vague enough so that you can add details later to fit your needs. Good job, Chris, you still got it!_

When he opened his eyes, Mint had already crushed whatever fears she had and buried them deep. She had a reluctant smile on.

"Anyways, it's pretty dark now. Let's argue about your training in the morning." He moved to pack everything up.

Mint looked at him, unsure, but laid down by their pack of stuff. "…alright."

They did not have any kind of bedding at all, as the old man didn't provide any, so instead they had to sleep directly on the floor.

 _All this is strange_ , thought Chris. His hands moved almost automatically. _It just feels so real, but then these memory things keep happening, and suddenly I know everything I'm seeing is not real. But even someone in a coma can't create a world so elaborate, can he? What if something really improbably has happened? What if…_

 _Oh my God! I think I've figured it out! This is like one of the horror stories isn't it? The government has figured out how to force a person's consciousness into a fabricated world and is trying to trick the information out of me! That explains why I'm having these weird flashbacks – they are somehow triggering them! Its like that game! Assassin's Creek! …Cred?_

His hands paused mid-motion while closing a lid.

 _Right… I think I'm going crazy._

They moved again.

 _Maybe I'm just trying too hard to make sense of all of this. I don't think there is any way for me to determine what it is right now. I need more clues._

He finally finished packing up, and with a yawn, also laid down. _I'll think about it more in the morning._ He made himself comfortable, or at least, as comfortable as he could. He calmed his mind and relaxed his tight muscles, letting himself melt onto the floor. Then, he closed his eyes, looked skyward with his mind, and spoke up.

"God, I think I'm doing better. I am trying my best to be good like you, but it is just so hard. Please, lend me some of your patience, lend me some of your strength, for while I do not know what has just happened, I know it is within your plan. If I make the right choices, I know no matter what hardships lay in front of me, good will prevail. I just need a little help.

May your will be done, just as it is in heaven.

Amen."

"Wha' 'as 'at?"

Chris looked towards Mint's side and saw that she was looking at him, eyes wide with curiosity. Her cheek was pressed against the ground, affecting her speech. "It was a prayer."

"I'ff never heard anyffing 'ike 'at!"

"Really."

She pushed herself onto her elbows and held her head up using her hands. "Yeah! I remember knowing this lady who believed the whole world was created by two brothers, but I don't think she ever prayed to them!"

Chris was always interested in other religions. "Why not?"

"Ah! I think… uh…" She swung her legs from side to side, as if wagging a tail, her lips pouting outwards and eyes looking upwards in thought. "Ah right!"

"In the beginning, they created stuff. One made good stuff, and the other made bad stuff." She sat up so that she could free her arms. "And good and bad didn't mix, so they ended up having epic battles!" The girl made sound effects as her hands started battling each other in a climactic battle for ultimate control. "Then, they got bored and tired of all the fighting. Before they quit Remnant, they created us, their children! The humans, who have the gifts of… something. Uh I forget that part, but I remember that humans have the ability to choose to be good or bad!"

"Huh, that's interesting…" commented Chris.

Mint continued. "But I also heard that the two gods were brothers, so two boys and siblings, so I don't know how they had children. I asked her to explain, but then she started giggling…"

Chris blanched.

The girl didn't notice, her frowns scrunched up together in confusion. "…and said she'll tell me when I'm older."

Quick to change the topic, Chris hurriedly asked her, "So is Remnant the name of this planet?"

"Uh. Sort of… it's the name of the world."

"How do you differentiate it?"

"Well, we are on this planet, the planet of Remnant, in the world of Remnant! And all around revolve the sun, the stars, and our broken moon!"

"What?"

"What what?"

Chris decided to verify the first insane thing he heard, and walked to the window to look outside. In the sky, the stars hung as they should, but in their midst was a huge broken spherical object at least one hundred times larger than the moon back on Earth.

It was ridiculous. It was insane. It didn't make any sense.

 _A celestial object that big would have absorbed its broken parts by now due to its enormous gravitational field._ _Or, if it was spinning, then shouldn't its effects be felt on the planet he was on? Were they on a collision course? They can't be on a collision course, or everyone would probably be panicking. Are they panicking?_

"Mint, is that thing going to crash into us?"

She burst into giggles at the comical scared expression upon his face. "Of course not! It was like that since ever, and never has gotten closer! Plus, it goes around us fast enough that none of its pieces fall on us due to our gravity."

He released a sigh of relief, before moving on to the next insane thing. "You all also believe in the geocentric model of the solar system?"

Mint blinked.

"Right. Let me rephrase that. You believe everything revolves around your planet?"

"Uh, duh. You can see it happen."

Chris' brain went into overdrive. _How can they believe in the geocentric model? It does not take much advancements in technology to make accurate measurements of the other planet's orbitals, or even the sun's, to disprove it._

 _Is it possible that they are primitive? But then how do they have guns and everything? I think they had electricity in the village, but I'm not certain about that._

 _Hm. Remnant. Could they be what is left of a civilization? That would explain the name, the breach in the walls and the high level of technology, but also primitive beliefs. Some galaxy-spanning empire that met its end?_

Chris smacked himself on the forehead. "Right, coma-theory. Or Assassin's Mead theory."

"What?"

He had forgotten momentarily that he had an audience.

 _Argh, what the hell, nothing makes sense, there's monsters in the forest, everything is crazy…_

"Nothing, Mint. Let's just sleep."

"But I want to know about your prayer thing!"

"We'll talk about it in the morning. This is too crazy for me."

"I want to know!" She whined. But Chris had already laid down and turned to his side so that his back was facing her. Mint pouted, but then grinned mischievously. She tiptoed near him.

"Go to sl – Argh!" Chris was interrupted when Mint jumped onto his stomach. "What the hell?!"

The little girl gasped. "That's a bad word!" She pressed a finger to his lips.

Chris glared back.

Mint giggled. "Tell me!"

The boy tried to hold his glare, but when his companion brought out her puppy dog eyes, he couldn't help but relent. He nodded resigned, and she removed her finger. Then he pushed her off.

She fell to the side with a yelp.

He tiredly sat up, and after a moment to search for words, said, "To sum up my faith, I believe in one good God who created the world. He is all knowing and all powerful and created humans in his image."

"What? One _good_ God?" The girl pushed herself off the floor and sat just like Chris, facing him. "But there are so many evil people in the world, like the White Fang!"

"Ah. The problem of evil. It is a very important question and has a very complicated answer. Still, it can be distilled to one thing: free will."

"Free will?"

"Yes. When God first created the world, he created beings that worshiped him because he made them that way, and acted like they did because they were created like so. He felt sadness that no one chose to follow him but was compelled to follow him."

"Wow…"

"One day, he got an idea. He created a concept called free will: the ability to choose. It transcends even his omnipotence, surpassing even reality itself. At first he was glad, happy. But he needed someone to give it to.

He looked first at the mountains. However, when given the ability to choose, they rejected the gift itself. 'My Lord, not even our shoulders that hold up the entire sky can bear the weight of your gift.'

He then asked his angels, his perfect creations of every way. They did like the mountains. 'My Lord, we are thankful, but our place is at your side.'

To all his creations, he posed this question, until finally, he came upon the humans. They, unlike all others, stood proud in front of him and accepted it with honor. And so it came to be.

With the power of free will, humans have great potential for great good, but also great evil."

"That's so cool! But how do you know that's true?"

Chris smiled. "There is a reason it is called faith. What I do know is that through science, we approach understanding, one step at a time. We figured out the theory of evolution, the tool that God used to create us. We learned that He is unbound by time when He told us creation was in seven days, but through science, theorized that formation took billions of years."

"That's so cool… a good God above, watching over us? Is that why we met?" Mint asked.

Chris looked into her eyes and one corner of his lips curved up. "Maybe." A little girl, living by herself in the wilderness… he does not want to know what would have happened to her if she had been left alone any longer. A yawn suddenly came from him. "Aaaaanyways. Story time over. Let's sleep, Mint." He laid down on his back and closed his eyes.

On his right, the girl mimicked him, a pout on her lips and crossed her arms.

 _That is one thing I haven't considered yet. Maybe I did die, and here, it is purgatory. A place in which we are cleansed of our sins by fire, and I do have a lot of sins._

 _However, it doesn't seem so bad. Where's the fire? Maybe we were wrong, and purgatory is but another world? Maybe…_

 _A second chance?_

Ruminating over this possibility, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

" _Chris?"_

" _Go away! Leave me alone!"_

" _Chris… you can't just stay in there forever."_

" _I totally can!"_

 _There was a feminine sigh, before the lock of the door was picked open. Lily let herself into the room._

 _The little boy sat at his desk, his head resting on his crossed arms. He was sobbing._

" _Chris, you know mom and dad can be harsh sometimes, but they love you – "_

" _Well you're wrong!" He cried, though the sound was muffled by his arms. "If they love me they would try to understand me!"_

 _The older sister resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the scene and approached him, her expression soft. "I know he was very precious to you, Chris. I'm not trying to say that you should just 'get over it'. But you need to look at it from their point of view, little brother. Dad just lost his job for the nth time and mom is watching our savings drain away bit by bit. Both are very tired, Chris."_

" _I don't care!"_

 _Their family wasn't perfect. There was no white picket fence, no safety of a steady income, no loving housewife and hard-working father. On the other hand, every family had their problems. Maybe some are better than others, but there will always be arguments – the small bumps along the road that make life interesting. Still, Chris' was one of those that wasn't hell, but felt like hell to him. For each person's life is their own, and each tragedy their own._

 _She wrapped him in an embrace. "Oh Chris…" She kissed the top of his head, then rubbed her cheek against his hair. They stayed like that for a while, the little seven-year old quietly sobbing and his older sister comforting him._

" _Chris," Lily suddenly said. "I know that you really loved Muncher, but I don't think he'll want to see you like this."_

 _Chris didn't respond, but felt a lot better, being surrounded by his beloved sister's warmth._

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

Chris woke up, but didn't feel very rested, being surrounded by the morning coolness. He was surprised that his back didn't hurt, as sleeping on the ground took time to adjust to.

 _And a dreamless sleep too. Huh, this body must be somehow used to it. How convenient,_ he thought, whatever memories of his dreams have been slipping away from his awakening.

The first rays of sunshine of the day peaked through the empty window frames, bathing the room in a warm there were only a mere few streaks, so they did not actually help warm him up. Mint stayed soundly asleep, ignoring her own golden spotlight.

He forced down his urge to yawn, blinked away his sleepiness, and inspected his surroundings. After making sure that everything was as they were before like the previous night, and that none of his traps on the inside of the room were triggered, he verified that his gun and knife were both in his pockets and got up.

He patted his clothing to get off whatever dust he had on him. The boy followed it up with a few stretches. Then, he moved to wake up his companion. He put his hand on her shoulder and shook her.

"Nnghh. Five more minutes…" She turned onto her side so that her back faced him.

For some reason, he couldn't help but smile. He could imagine her cute scrunched up face, annoyed at the disruption to her sleep. There was something endearing about it.

He had seen innocence, seen their naïve world view shatter as fire and brimstone covered the sky. The life draining from their eyes as everything they held sacred was turned into playthings for their enemies. But here, in a city where thousands have laid down theirs lives in defeat, there was a beacon, a light in the darkness.

It wasn't even a metaphor, he suddenly realized. Chris hadn't noticed before, thinking that maybe it was just his own wallowing of the past, but there was certainly some kind of deathly miasma in the air setting off his memories. It stank of the past, of the every drop of blood shed, of every mother slaughtered in front of her children, of every body left to rot. It was as if a thousand souls had been laid suspended for an eternity in a repetition of their final agonizing moments.

And through the black fog, there was Mint. He wouldn't have noticed how thick it was if she wasn't there as comparison. Chris didn't get it, or even understand it, but the area directly around her was… clean? Warm? He closed his eyes and focussed on feeling it.

 _I'm not feeling it physically… it's… so strange. It's immaterial? I feel it like an emotion, but I know it's not my own because it feels distinct,_ Chris noted. _What is this? …wait, it also feels like… kinship?_

No matter what he did, he could not figure out what the feeling was. All that he could tell was that when he was near Mint, the feeling turned a lot better. Finally, after a few more minutes off tester, he shook her shoulder harder to wake her up.

"Whyyyyyy… It's too early…" She mumbled.

"Mint, weren't there a lot of activities you wanted to do today? Like training, fishing…" He wanted to ask Mint about his strange feeling, but then realized that maybe telling her that it felt good when he was near her came out as a bit pedophilic. Chris decided that he should probably keep it to himself. "Mint?"

The sleeping girl didn't get up and curled up instead like a cat. She made some noises that could be some mix of 'go away' and 'lemme sleep'.

Chris sighed and shook his head. He moved to prepare breakfast.

It turns out that he did not need to figure out how to wake up Mint. The sound of one of his traps going off was quite loud and sent Chris into battle mode. He reached for his gun and knife and looked through each of the windows. Nothing on each side. Those traps were untouched. Only the one protecting the door was left, and thus, must be the one that went off. Could it be the villagers, looking for revenge?

Nevertheless, he didn't need to guess, as he didn't have to open the door to know who was on the other side.

"You idiot! You know he's very smart and strong, of course he was going to booby trap it!"

"Help me!"

"Shut up! If you wake him up, he might be in a bad mood, and not want to trade with us!"

"By the gods, you are all stupid!"

Any further arguing was stopped as Chris opened the door, weapon in hand.

All four boys stilled, even the one hanging from the roof by his feet due to a rope trap. Chris recognized them as the ones from before, though they had backpacks this time and no weapons. The two sides stared at each other. One side looked like they had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar, while the other kept a stoic expression.

"Uh… hi?" the boy in mid-air tried.

"No, dumbass, remember what we've practiced!" The leader from before berated.

"Right. Stranger, we've come to bargain!"

Chris was not impressed. "For what?"

"We're sorry we attacked you! So, uh… we have some stuff to trade, so that we can get our gun back! Boss borrowed it from his dad and he'll be pissed if – "

"You idiot! Don't tell him the stakes!"

"Hey, you are the one who chose me to talk to him because you were too chicken – "

"I'm not chicken!"

Before they could get into another argument, the de-aged man interrupted them. "Well, go on then. What do you have?" While he did not want to part with the gun, he decided to humour them just in case they had something he wanted. It may also gain him some friendliness from these children.

One of the boys eagerly put down his bag and started taking out items. "I brought an apple," he said as he took the item," another apple, and another apple, oh! An orange…"

"Seriously? How stupid do you think he is? A gun is worth so much more!" The 'boss' yelled at him.

"Wait, I'm getting to the good stuff! Here's a limited-edition huntsman card of Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon Academy!" The one with the open bag proudly declared, showing off his shiny collectible card. His friends gasped.

"No way! They only made two of these!"Minion #2 said.

"Holy crap!" Minion #3 cried.

The boss boy seemed to have tears in his eyes. "Really, Crim? You'll really trade that away for me?"

"Of course, boss! You are my boss no matter what!"

"Crim, you are my favorite minion!" He tackles-hugs his friend.

The other two boys, one of them still hanging, looked at each other. "That's so gay," one of them whispered.

Chris coughed to get their attention. "It is a moot point, I don't want any cards. Is there anything else?"

"Well," casually said minion #2, "I brought a dust grenade," His friends watched him, a bit disbelieving, as he reached into his backpack and held out his mentioned item in one hand.

The boss stalked towards him. "No! We are not giving him a bomb, you crazy?"

"He has a gun, boss. I don't think trading him anything normal – "

"No! Gimme tha – "

The boss reached the grenade just as his friend pulled it away. He was faster, so was able to even get a grip on one part. What he didn't expect was for his minion's instinctual action moving the grenade pin straight into his grasp.

Click.

The four boys stared at the suddenly live explosive.

The person holding the grenade was dumbfounded, not really understanding what had just happened. His leader, with the pin in hand, also blanked out.

Chris, being experienced, did not freeze. The moment the pin was removed he burst into action. He sprinted towards the boy with the nade, and in one fluid kick sent the grenade flying away from them. It made an arc before disappearing onto the top of another building near them. There was a large bang, plus a cloud of dust.

"Holy crap," breathed minion #3.

Then the whole building the grenade had landed upon crumbled, sending a wave of dust that covered the kids in debris. There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to process what just happened.

"You stupid-heads!" Came from behind the five boys. It was Mint, who had been woken up by all the commotion, and came over just in time to witness the situation with the grenade.

"Y-yeah," the leader of the village boys agreed, though he was still in shock at his near death, "t-that w-was really… y-yeah." His eyes were wide with fright.

"No, I meant why didn't you just throw it away?! Instead you froze with fear!" Mint yelled at him. She took threatening steps forward.

"Missy, we thought we were going to die!"

"Well, now we really might die because you have attracted the Grimm with your fear, especially with that sound!"

Interrupting their argument, a deep, loud, animal roar shook the ground.

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

 **A/N: Sorry this is sort of late (I guess I'm updating Fridays?). It is longer than normal, so that makes up for it?**

 **The thing is, I had a lot planned for this chapter and didn't expect it to be so long. So, this is technically ¾ of the chapter. I was trying to finish everything and only posting it then, but I decided against it because of the length.**

 **I might not update next week, instead, I'll be finishing this one chapter and updating the previous few. Or I might still update. Nothing is in stone.**

 **Nobody left a review… me sad. No thoughts on the story yet? That's alright.**


	4. Chapter 4 Part 1

**Updated on December 3rd, 2018**

 **Beta: Courtland!**

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

After hearing the roar, regular children would have felt even more scared. However, this was Remnant. Children were taught from a young age techniques to distance themselves from fear. Those who could not distance themselves… did not end up living for long. This was how humanity survived since the coming of the Grimm.

When the initial surprise of the explosion wore off, the boys calmed themselves down. One of them even took a chocolate bar out and focused only on the taste. Another rubbed his friend's back. To a normal human, these techniques would have done nothing. But these were the humans of Remnant, hardened by the darkness that threatened everyday to kill them all.

Mint stared up at Chris from his side, looking worried. "What do we do?"

Chris thought quickly. While he wasn't 100% convinced about the Grimm's existence, the roar did signify some kind of large animal, hostile or not. It would be better to hide when he didn't have much info about his enemy. But how to hide?

He was told that they were giant monsters attracted by fear. It can't just be any degree of fear, as the walls of the village would be swarmed the moment a person afraid of the dark tried to sleep at night. By Mint's comment, it also seemed that they could hear. So, to hide from them, all they'd need to do is stop being afraid of anything, and to not make any noise. T _hat sounds easy enough –_

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Everyone tensed and looked around. It sounded like several heavy things landing some distance away from them. They weren't sure where the sounds were coming from, but they could guess from what. The unknown things followed their arrival with what sounded like sprinting. It got louder. In the direction of the breach, the tips of far away buildings started to disappear as they crumbled away, turning the previously calm ambience into a cacophony. Dust was thrown into the air by the movement, giving a clear indication of where the Grimm were coming from.

Chris knew exactly what to do. "Run." He simply said, though it was completely unneeded, as the group bolted in the opposite direction of the monsters.

Their pursuers were going at a tremendous speed, pushing aside the ruins of houses in their way like some demonic parting of the red sea. The children could now hear the monsters' breathing beneath the cracking of the wood, shredding of metal, and smashing of stone. Some parts were even thrown forwards, forcing the pursued to do some zigzags in order to avoid the larger chunks. The children struggled to keep themselves from feeling more fear. They focused on the path ahead, face red from physical exertion.

Chris' attention flickered between the path in front of him and his pistol. It was like a Glock, but this one had some kind of glowing core inside its transparent handle and magazine. The core was rectangular, thin and tall, with its top part reaching the inside of the barrel. There was still a trigger, and… no safety?

His attention fractured as he tripped over a pipe and stumbled forward. He was able to catch himself from falling and continued running. Then, ignoring Mint's concerned look, he glanced quickly backwards to judge the distance between him and his pursuers.

There was no doubt it was monsters that were hunting them.

He saw a bone mask covering a face and the glowing of red eyes. Bone plates stylized with red swirly lines covered a ten-foot-tall quadruped animal in the shape of a dark black, almost ink-like, bear. The way its arms swept away buildings to make way for it in the streets displayed an enormous amount of strength. Every heavy step made an indent in the shrapnel covered earth. Behind it, chaos reigned as its two brethren followed in its footsteps.

The three Grimm were only about one hundred meters away and closing fast. Chris decided to screw it and try to fire the pistol. He pointed behind him and pressed the trigger.

The large recoil surprised him and his slightly bent arm snapped into a 45 degrees angle. The rest of his body was sent forwards and he tumbled into the two boys in front of him. All three fell onto the ground in a pile. He disentangled himself quickly and turned to face his pursuers, spitting out the dirt, and readied his gun for a second shot. The boy knew that he could not get back up to run fast enough, so decided instead to make his stand here.

"Chris!" cried Mint. She had turned to look at him and slowed down to a light jog.

To his surprise, his first shot scored an eye, and the Grimm roared in pain as it blindly charged forward into a nearby building. It sounded like a train wreck. There was no time to rest, however, as the two other Grimm were still running at him.

He was ready for the recoil this time and fired off a shot at the monster's hind legs with the accuracy of a trained gunman. Chris was sent backwards skidding on his butt, but his target faired worse. The targeted limb was taken out from under the Grimm mid-stride. It stuck out its arm as it tried to steady itself, but ended up whacking the other monster in the face. The other monster fell flat on his back, clotheslined, while the one that was shot landed on his front.

Chris rolled to right himself and realized that the two boys who had been knocked down with him hadn't run to safety after they'd recovered from their tumble. Instead, they had watched the result of his precise shot in awe.

"You dumbasses! Run, fools!"

They snapped out of their trance, scrambled to their feet, and did as they were told. Mint, further away from them, ran too. Strangely, Chris thought he saw two glinting streaks on her cheeks, reflecting the sunlight. He ignored it. Sighing, the man-turned-boy brought his attention back to the large monsters while he shifted into a kneeling position, attempting to get up and follow the others.

To his disappointment, his previous shot had bounced off the leg bone plate. He cursed. The two Grimm were uninjured. In the amount of time the exchange between him and one half of the Doom Squad had taken , they had recovered. With a roar, they sprinted on all four legs at the kneeling boy.

Chris felt calm even as they neared him. The snarling teeth, crimson eyes, and flesh like shadows in the light were just mere observations. Was it confidence? Some kind of adrenaline high? It was strange, as if ten thousand people had fed him their bravery, and yelled their encouragement.

Using both hands, he raised his pistol again and lined up another shot. Everything slowed down. His breathing was steady and rhythmic. The snarls of the Grimm, cracking of wood, and girlish screaming of his name became background noise. Muscles were tensed and ready to spring into motion. The gun and his target were aligned. He braced himself. His trigger finger squeezed. He absorbed the blow. Re-aimed. And shot again.

The monsters staggered forward. There was a small hole in the center of their chests, where their heart should be. For a moment, Chris thought he did it. Unfortunately, the wounds only slowed the creatures down and they continued their path to him.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a small, round object sent the Grimm on the right crashing into his brethren. They roared in pain and searched for their attacker. Chris took the chance to stand up, but stayed in case whoever had attacked the dark creatures needed backup.

A man walked out from between two wooden buildings. It was the same man from before, Chris realized. The person who had sent the villagers after him. He had now changed into leather armor, with his normal gray shirt and worn jeans underneath. His left hand was twirling his yoyo.

The monsters mindlessly charged at the man, who didn't even look fazed. With a twirl, he sent his yoyo flying and used his arms to manipulate its flight path. To Chris, it looked like the yoyo was somehow redirecting itself in mid-air, causing the string behind it to make an intricate aerial designs. The two Grimm charged underneath the web, uncaring of the strange move.

In an almost ridiculous sequence of events, the man landed a flying roundhouse kick straight into the first Grimm's bone face. The monster was somehow lifted off the ground and into his falling yoyo-string web. In one swift movement, he dodged under the second monster's swipe and pulled his web tight around the first.

Somehow, the man had wrapped his string only around the flesh and none of the bone armor. The Grimm was squeezed hard and the razor wire cut it into a thousands chunks. No blood, Chris noted, just featureless black covered crimson blocks.

The yoyo snapped back into the man's hand and he swung it at the second monster's chest in a wide arc. It blocked the initial blow using its large arms, making the weapon bounce off. The man grinned menacingly. He used the momentum of the bounce to send it into another arc and back at the inky arms, but this time with spikes.

The spikes dug into the bone armor - and because the yoyo was spinning, this sent it into movement perpendicular to the armor. To Chris' uncomprehending eyes, the yoyo rolled all the way around the Grimm many times without flying off, like a spiky satellite orbiting on the surface of a planet. It trapped the monster in a similar web of wires to the first one. The Grimm couldn't even whimper before it ended up like the first one.

As the dust settled, all the destruction and raining monster chunks around the stranger made for an intimidating sight. The area around him the size of a city block was destroyed, including the path the Grimm had made to get to where Chris and the others had been. He holstered his yoyo as the monster chunks also disintegrated. It was quiet, a strange calm after all the excitement.

Chris wasn't sure if he should run now. The man had just killed two monsters, maybe even the third as that one too was now silent, with a yoyo. On the other hand, the man had saved him. Chris hesitated, losing his chance to run.

The man turned around to face the boy. "You are a brave young man, stranger. Without aura, you would have certainly been dead meat if I hadn't stepped in." He approached.

 _Aura?_ Chris took a few steps away from him wearily, but kept his pistol pointed downward. While he wasn't sure the man wouldn't attack, he also didn't want to make the man feel threatened. The stranger was too strong for him to fight him head on.

"Thank you for rescuing the boys with your life." The thanks were given stoically.

 _Rescue?! I was only looking after myself, it was just unlucky that this body is slow as hell!_ The boy held his tongue.

"However, your motives are unknown. We do not trust strangers easily here." The man thoughtfully stared at him. "So, what shall we do with you?" He was interrupted from his contemplation by a squad of his warriors.

"Boss! We caught the bandit child!" There were three of them with Mint in between. She was held up by her armpits by a man on each side, while the one behind pointed a rifle at her back. "Can I do the honors, boss?"

"No, no, no!" The girl sobbed. She struggled in their arms, but in the tight grip of the stronger men, it was useless. Chris looked on, impassive on the outside. Internally, he was very conflicted.

 _She did something really horrible… so bad, that even they want to kill her for it. Do I really want to be associated with her? I've only known her for a bit, for all I know, she really is a bandit… though why is that even that bad?_

 _On the other hand, she seemed innocent enough…_

Chris gritted his teeth and his grip around the handle of his gun tightened.

The first stranger turned his attention to Mint. "Ah, the little devil herself." He strolled casually towards her, as if he was taking an evening walk. "I wonder just how much it'll take for you to talk… or to scream."

"I'm," the girl hiccupped. Two streaks of tears ran down her face. "I'm not a bandit! It-It was an accident, I didn't know he was a bad guy!"

The yoyo-wielding man arrived in front her, and kneeled down so that the two were face to face. "I believe you, little girl. Sneaking an armed man into our fortified walls… by accident. By the trained sight of our ever-vigilant boys… all by 'accident'." The men around laughed mockingly at her, making her cry harder. She didn't notice Chris, as their bodies blocked most of him. Plus, it was hard not to focus on four men beating you up.

He could run, he realized. Ignore it, make no connections between them. The villagers might take him in as a hero! That was the new start he was looking for. Was it so bad? Mint would have died by herself anyways.

That train of thought also hurt him. Not that he cared about Mint. It was some strange ache in his heart. Was he hesitant to throw away her life like that? That was illogical. The chance of him getting them both out of the situation alive and unwounded was slim. The villagers had such a strong illogical fear of the bandits that they would target children on sight…

And even if he used the fact that he had saved the leader's children as trade for their lives, he doesn't think it would work. Bringing them inside the gates was a huge risk for the security of the village, and no matter how honorable the leader may be, he still has to think about the rest of the village. There is no real way to verify Mint and Chris' allegiances. When the leader will have to choose between the life of everyone he knew against the life of two strangers, there would be only one choice he would choose.

So, why did it hurt? Why did it hurt to decide to leave Mint to the wolves? To abandon her to the hands of these blood thirsty men? It's not as if he's even bound by his old morals anymore. Why was it so hard suddenly?

His grip on his gun handle was uncomfortably tight. Sweat dripped from his brow and it wasn't just from the previous fight anymore. His heart started to beat quickly.

He couldn't take his eyes away from Mint, as the leader wiped her across the face with his blunt yoyo, the spikes retracted. The little girl cried more, but didn't yell for help. She might have thought Chris had been killed from the Grimm, leaving nobody to be on her side. In response to her distress, her captors just mocked her harder.

Chris couldn't take it, but with a heavy heart, he forced his eyes closed. Something wet gathered at the corners of his eyes. He turned, then opened his eyes to look at anything but the scene behind him, and walked away, into an alley between two buildings each missing the top half of their structure. He closed his eyes again, a grimace on his face.

…and strolled straight into a metal wall. The boy fell onto his butt, before looking up to the suit of metallic steam-punk-style armor that he had walked into. The helmet was just a dome of transparent material, allowing Chris to recognize the wielder of the armor as…

"Yah stoopid youngsta!" The old man's voice came out of some speakers on the sides of his chest. He hefted his weapons, a pair of over-the-top large machine guns. "Wha' ha' I told yah ab – "

Something came over Chris. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was a mix of relief and happiness. Was it… hope? He interrupted the man.

"My God, they are going to kill Mint!"he blurted out.

The old man stilled. "Wha'?" He rushed around the fallen boy and out of the alley, his armor suit somehow silent with all that machinery. "Stap yah fools!"

Chris stared at the man as the suit of armor disappeared around the corner. _What the hell. I better back him up though, with him, Mint has a chance!_ He scrambled to his feet, completely forgetting about his earlier dilemma, and went after his elder.

When he arrived back at the scene, the men and the elder were having a one-sided conversation.

"Yah dumbass younglings! Tha's not the gal from be'vore!"

"Sir – I" The four men looked visibly panicked. Mint shrunk, intimidated by the suit, and the sun reflected off the helmet just enough that she couldn't recognize him.

"Loo' at 'er! She's not ewen wea'ing the green dress!" Mint's ripped up dress was even more faded from her trips in the tunnels, and with the dust, it looked like a very light gray. "Wha', did you loo' at 'er hair and think 'ah! There's only one green hai'ed gal in the world!'"

"But her fac – "

"Don't you 'but' with me, youngling! Mah old eyes might be old, but I 'ad a good look at 'er face and it ain't nothing like this! The bandi' had orange eyes, I remember 'ose orbs of doom!" The old man pointed using his machines guns at Mint, making her lean back, her eyes wide. "Tha' is obviously a b'ight red, a c'imson!"

The men didn't look 100% convinced but they were starting to become unsure of themselves. Chris decided to increase Mint's legitimacy, "Oh my God, Grass! Lil' sis I was so worried – what did they do to you?!" The girl's eyes lit up as she saw her friend.

"…huh the bandit's name was Mint… I guess none of us did get a good look at her face – "

"I know you didn't! Yah younglings these days, always moving but no thinking! Beating on little ladies just cause you 'ink yer big strong men." The man with the rifle had moved it away from Mint and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "AND 'OINT THAT GUN AT THE GROUND YAH LITTLE SHIT!" The one with rifle yelped, and in his rush to do so, his rifle fell out of his hands. The old man looked disappointed. "Why, back in my days…"

The man on Mint's right spoke up meekly. "Sir, uh… we have… patrols… yeah. Important patrols. Can we…?"

"Don't you 'ink that you are getting away wi'out a lecture, 'am gonna yell your ears off after your shift!"

The men dropped Mint onto the ground where she fell to her hands and knees. The men took that as their chance to leave, almost looking like they were rushing out of there. It left the three of them alone. The old man stared at the kids.

"Wha' the hell happened 'ere?"

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

 **A/N: Part 1 of 2. Real A/N at end of second.**


	5. Chapter 4 Part 2

**Updated on 7/12/2018: Added details to Mint's part and Raven's part.**

 **Beta: Courtland!**

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

The three of them were now in the old man's living room. Mint sat on the large luxurious black leather sofa, while Chris sat near her. The old man was sitting across a round coffee table from them, in an armchair with elaborate red designs.

The room itself was quite large, fitting also a piano, an organ, and had a nice carpeted space in the middle. It was big enough that five to ten people could dance in the middle, if one removed the patterned carpet to reveal the polished wooden floor. On the white walls hung an extremely diverse assortment of different items, from the rocket powered fishing rod that Mint had mentioned before, to an ancient gigantic gold shield.

There were many bruises all over the girl's body, including a large bruise on her face. Chris was rubbing ointment over them and fretted over her health. A large med kit was open beside him.

Mint was silent, probably in shock at what had happened to her. She responded to the worried boy's questions with nods and shaking her head.

The old man was also quiet, possibly thinking about Mint's and Chris' adventure. He sat back in his sofa, staring at the kids, with a cup of tea in front of him. The tea was growing cold, untouched.

After waiting till most of Mint's bruises were dealt with, he spoke up.

"Yah know Chris, I'm surprahsed."

Chris didn't look away from his work. "Hm?"

The old man leaned forward, inspecting him. "Ah've been watching yah." He was looking for a reaction.

Unsure of what he was supposed to feel, the boy went for incredulity. "What? How?" Internally, he was afraid that the man had seen his indecision in saving Mint. His hand brushed against the pocket with his gun as he reached to get more ointment.

"Ah have… sentries. Came'as. They watch yah, and ah can tell, yer a good kid."

Chris kept his relief off his face with practiced ease. "Holy, you have cameras in those ruins? How and why?"

He finished up, wiped his hands off with a towel and closed the med kit. The action of putting surveillance in the ruins wasn't too surprising for him. In hindsight, a village scared of bandits would probably want to make sure nobody hid in all those buildings. He still kept his expression curious though.

"For tha' bandi's," confirming Chris' suspicions, "of course! Ah ain't needing all that security came'as! Yer was lucky ah was watching yah, ah came as fast as ah could when ah saw tha' Grimm."

The boy nodded, before turning his attention back onto Mint. "…so, you know how we can… help her?" She was staring at the far wall, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Ah thin' a nap will do her some good, and some warm'." The old man slowly stood up, careful of his old ligaments and bones, and waddled over. "Mint? Ah'll show yah yer two's room, the ba'room, and pantry." The girl nodded silently. He walked away, and she followed.

Chris stayed where he was. Now that he'd heard the old man in a calmer setting, he noticed that something didn't add up. The old man's speech was strange, as his accent and way of speech weren't consistent. His 'r's were sometimes rolled, sometimes ignored. Sometimes he couldn't pronounce his 'k's. Was he faking it? What reason would he have to fake it?

"'ris! Yah coming?" called out the old man, interrupting the boy's thoughts.

The boy got off the sofa and followed them. He didn't have enough information to make any major conclusions, but he decided to keep an eye out.

He and Mint were shown each of the aforementioned rooms, and each were just as well furnished as the last. The bathroom had a large jacuzzi, shower, and looked somehow extremely clean. The guest bedroom was filled with paintings, from sunset oil paintings to sketches of a donut. It was like a clean hoarder's mansion. There were two beds in the bedroom, each queen sized and covered with fresh linen of various shades of baby blue. Over in the pantry, it was surprisingly empty of food, and huge. In their place were vegetables, growing under artificial light and used aeroponics. The old man told them he had more rooms repurposed to grow food for the villagers.

All the incredible and shiny new objects helped at distracting Mint from her ordeal. At first she was hesitant to explore, but by the last room she was already walking around and grabbing food with reluctant glee. It would be long before she'd feel like herself again, if ever, but it was a start. Chris and Mr. Magpie stood at the doorway, watching her with concern.

"By the 'ay," said the old man as Mint munched a mint chocolate cookie ( _cannibalism!_ Had thought Chris). He turned around and called out into in the hallway. "ROB!"

The whirring of wheels was heard, before a humanoid robot arrived in front of the two. It was shorter than the old man and taller than Chris, with two wheels instead of feet. It wasn't made to be very realistic, as it had four arms and male manikin like features. In order to make it more pleasant looking, it was mainly white with blue highlights. None of its joints were exposed.

"Meet Rob, mah pe'sonal house 'obot. It does all tha' work."

"Hello." Came the voice, surprisingly normal, but still too smooth for a human. Its simulated eyes scanned the room, before landing on Mint. "Oh my, has old master finally adopted? I am so ecstatic to take care of a child!" it cried happily. The girl looked like a deer in the headlights in response to the strange machine. "Oh, you are soooo cute, I just want to hug the bolts out of you~" Mint couldn't even fully yelp before the robot had tackled her to the ground.

Chris looked on worriedly as the robot spun Mint through the air. "Shouldn't you call this… Rob… off?"

"Eh, ah'm sure some affection will help her." The old man nodded to himself.

"Heeeeelp…"

"Sooooo cuteee~"

He continued nodding. "P'fectly fine. Oh, and yah won't be seeing it a lot, as it's normally ve'y busy." While Rob was a robot, it wasn't made of heavy steel. The internals were composed of varying plastics with lightweight metal, and the outside shell was thick but packed with mostly air. Getting tackled by Rob was like getting hit by a heavy pillow, so the old man wasn't very worried.

The house robot had released Mint before she could get too uncomfortable, and was now talking to her animatedly. Mint desperately squeezed in her responses between its questions the best she could, feeling overwhelmed by the robot's friendliness.

Chris turned away from the scene and to his elder. "Mr. Magpie, may I ask a question?" Absentmindedly, he noted that 'Magpie' was a strange last name.

"Of 'ourse."

"Why are you helping us?"

Mr. Magpie stilled for a second. He turned to meet the boy's eyes. "Yah 'eally are 'omething else. Younger than Mint, but 'uch mo'e mature."

The boy tensed at the indirect answer. The weight of his weapons were comforting, but he knew that relief was only a lie. If the old man wished them harm, and still allowed Chris to bring his weapons, it meant that the old man had some way of dealing with the boy even while he was armed. This line of thought turned out to be useless, as the old man started explaining.

"Yah could say ah'm a bit of a do-gooder. Ah have lots of money and not a lotta time left, so why not help some people, yah know."

It made some sense, but Chris was still unsettled by his elder's quirks and the answer was just a bit too standard. Just to be on the safe side, he decided to be careful. There was no harm in doing so anyways.

"Wha' abou' yah, kid? How yah end up mee'ing with Mint?"

He gave the story he gave Mint, but with more details. The mushrooms and amnesia parts were the same, but he extended the part about his confusion at being in the village. In hindsight, he probably should have made a better story. Too late to fix that now. _Hopefully, the cameras didn't see anything that…_

"Fits what ah've seen on the cameras."

 _Thank God._

"Saw yah 'obbling a'ound, holding yah stomach. Yah said something to tha guards and they let yah in. Ah was surprised at fi'st, but if yah was outta yah mind, then they probably tried to help yah."

The man-turned-boy was surprised. He didn't remember ever being near the front doors. Did the old man get the wrong person? Or was there more going on? Was it just coma strangeness? _No,_ he instantly thought.

He doesn't think the coma-theory makes much sense anymore, with how real and detailed the world was. No matter how imaginative his subconscious was, could it really replicate the boringness of preparing forty crackers individually seasoned, or the length of each walk? If he was in his own imaginary world, it should skip over things like that. Time should then accelerate or jump when events weren't interesting, like a dream. Just the fact that he notices to be important.

So why was he here? The right corner of his lip curved up in mirth as he realized that his question could be interpreted as the philosophical one, before he decided to abandon that train of thought. He had no information to start from, other than he was possibly moving about before his awakening in this strange new world.

He was distracted from his contemplation when the old man called his name. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he glanced at Mint and Rob to make sure they were alright before meeting his and Mint's savior's eyes.

"Sorry Mr. Magpie, it was… an exciting day. Too exciting."

"Ah, ah knew tha' feeling, once ahpon ah time!" The old man nodded. "Back in tha days when ah saw the world as mine ta take, ah wanted to do everathing! Ah, youth!" He laughed, his voice almost grandfatherly like, reminiscing about a time gone by. It quickly faded when he remembered something. "Ah, but also a time of many mistakes…" The old man shook his head, frowning.

 _Yeah sure, you ancient fossil, I don't think your mistakes can ever match up to mine._

"Chris, yah mind if ah add anothah question?"

"No Mr. Magpie, go ahead."

"How old are yah?"

The man-turned-boy dismissed answering with a random number between five and eight. He still wasn't sure of his appearance, and he did not want to give an unrealistic age. All he saw during his glance at the large and luxurious bathroom mirror, was his dark hazelnut eyes, which told him nothing about his age. He cursed his carelessness. He decided to pull the amnesia card again. "I… I… I don't remember."

His response was taken well, as Mr. Magpie asked the question out of curiosity and not suspicion. "Yah seem youngah than Mint, but talk as if yah were hal' mah age. Ah've rarely seen kids like yah. Mint was lucky to have found yah. If she was alone, ah'm afraid of wha' could have happened."

Younger than Mint was really young. To Chris, she looked somewhere between seven and ten.

"Nevah thought ah'll say it, but it was lucky she met a ma'ure six yea' old!"

 _I LOOK LIKE A SIX YEAR OLD?! That explains why she was so comfortable around me! And why the 'Doom Squad' were also basically being kids around me! Oh my God! What the hell?!_ The surprise must have shown on his face, as the old man started chuckling.

"Yah really ha' no idea!" The elderly said. "Mint's seven yea' old, so ah toddler was protecting her 'gainst a Grimm! Yer have potential, young man!"

Chris was pretty sure his brain had short-circuited right there.

The old man's laughter died down after a good minute of laughing. "Ah youngsters are getting strongah these days! Grimm will be a fear of tha past! Any'ays, why don't we all play a game tah pass the time till lunch? Ah have lotta board games tha ah would play if ah had more visitors."

The boy smiled. It sounded good to him to finally wind down a bit.

Suddenly, he heard a call from his companion of the last day. "Chrissss!" He blinked as a green blur flew by him and hid behind his body. "The robot is a – after my vim – vird – virtue!" Chris twisted his head to try to look at the frantic girl behind him.

"I do not think that word means what you think it means."

He heard the approach of the robot, so turned to face it to inquire about Mint's strange words. Then he blinked again when he saw it.

Somehow, the robot had changed attire and shape. Its metal skin was still the same, but it had grown a bit shorter. The curves of its body had also changed so that it looked feminine. It also suddenly had legs. There was even a solid block of wavy metal on its head to simulate a bob cut. Its clothing was switched out for a maid uniform, one that was thankfully chaste. A small part of Chris suddenly realized that 'virtue', 'fetish maid uniform', 'versatile fembot', and 'little girl' were not a good combination. At all.

"Mistress Grass! I must insist on a bath this instant!" The robot put hands on its waist, as if chastising the only little girl in the room. "You are filthy! You'll get it all over the carpet!"

"No way!"

"Mistress Grass!" pleaded the robot. It stalked around Chris to go after Mint. The seven-year-old was adamant about not having a bath and ran away from the robot but made sure to keep Chris in between. This led to a strange chase in a circle around Chris with a lot of shouting. The old man watched on side, amused.

The boy in the middle would have tried to stop Mint, but something more pressing was bugging him. He could have sworn that the robot had looked masculine with four arms. Was it some kind of transformation sequence? However, when he had glanced in the direction of the robot when checking for Mint's safety, he'd never noticed anything different, until that sudden change. True, Natasha did come in like that but…

 _Wait. Natasha? I thought the robot's name was Rob? The old man did introduce the robot as Natasha – no, Rob! What the hell? Why do I remember both happening? And then the robot walked in… no, I think it rolled… but it also walked…? And I saw… I saw…_

Chris frowned. His memories suddenly felt vague. _I… I… the robot… the android has only two arms. And its name is Natasha, and it moves around on two legs. But… it was different before? Was it different? I… did something just happen to me?_

"Eeeep!"

The little almost-toddler shook himself out of his reverie to Mint being manhandled by Ro – Ro – the Ro – bot. Natasha used her robotic arms to entrap the girl who was about the same size as her, before strolling towards the bathroom with her captive.

"Help, Chris!"

The boy was still thinking about the android, so just commented offhandedly. "Yeah, yeah, I'll grab the bubble bath stuff."

"Not that kind of help!" She whined. The door shut behind the two, cutting off any further discussion.

Mr. Magpie looked at Chris, his eyes full of mirth. "Looks like yah'll be tha one to choose tha game we'll be pla'ing."

Later, the three of them sat at a rectangular table in a designated game room, a vintage board game called Money-poly before them. Each of them sat on a couch that surrounded the table in a U shape. Around them, there were bookshelves and bookshelves of board games, from competitive ones to Dungeons and Dragons like adventures. The room was lit brightly by a large complicated glass chandelier.

Chris and Mint, who had changed into a pretty emerald dress covered with emerald designs - given to them by one of the 'Doom Squad's mother as part of her thanks - were sitting on one side, while Mr. Magpie faced them on the other side. Chris and Mint were a team.

 _The game plays similarly to Monopoly_ , noted Chris. The two kids had chosen a little mirror on wheels as their character and moved it around the board at each roll of their dice. The old man used a rogue figurine.

"So, Grass, how do yah like yah new name?"

'Grass' pouted. "Do I really have to be called that?"

"Sorry Mint, I had to think quickly. Still, I don't think Mint is that much better – "

"You take that back!" The girl glared at Chris as threateningly as she could, which was very much.

Their elder smiled softly at the exchange. He proceeded to roll the dice and move five spaces forward on the track around the board. This set him on a property called 'Vale Grimmlands'. It was cheap, so he bought it.

"Now, now, Grass, don't speak to your poor younger brother like that." Chris said, his voice dripping with fake innocence. "You are going to scare me!"

Mint pouted harder. It was now supposed to be her 'brother's' turn to roll for their team, but she stole the dice and threw it herself petulantly. Their figurine moved one space forward. Chris shook his head, smirking at her behavior, before he picked up a random event card.

"Grimm Incursion. Move back to 'Go'. Don't collect 500$." He read. The little girl whined as she moved their piece to the start of the board.

"Mint, 'Grass' is not a bad name. The hardy plant thrives in a lot of different environments, very adaptable. Very strong."

"I don't want to be grass!"

"It is not that big of a deal… why is Mint alright when – "

"Mint is an awesome flavor!"

"Look, your name is still Mint. It's just when we are out that we have to call you Grass. Your name is still Mint, but… think of 'Grass' like an alias."

"Wut?"

"Like a codename," Chris amended. "…superheroes have aliases, so they can keep their real name secret."

Mint stared at him. "A superhero called Grass."

"Don't worry Mint, it is actually very cool." The boy, even while making stuff up, stayed perfectly calm. "Like, I've read about a superhero called Grass who was very heroic…"

Mint continued her stare. "A very heroic hero. Named Grass." She deadpanned.

"Eh, yes, yes, very… heroic. And she was a heroine too. And she had powers."

"Yes, let me guess. Super strength and was named Grass?"

"Uhhhh nah, not Grass." There was no way a superhero with super strength would be called Grass.

"Super-speed?"

"Neither?"

"Super-durability?"

"Not that either?"

"So what kind of superpowers, would a super-heroin, named Grass, have?"

The boy sweated. He struggled to think of anything else than 'is really short, like you' or 'anyone she touches becomes really high' as an answer, especially when he was under Mint's glare. His traitorous brain decided to not help him, and instead ponder upon how he'd never noticed that he was the same height as Mint. That should have been the first sign that he was very young. It was a very strange problem, if not very pressing.

 _Stop. Think about a power from a superheroine called 'Grass'. Maybe… omniscience? Grass is everywhere, so… but they don't have eyes… but maybe they can feel? Huh, can they feel that they are so short too? Everyone else notices… though I didn't… I think I didn't notice that I was her height because of all the stress…? ACK! Stop!_

The old man coughed. "It's yah'r turn."

Eager to do something else to buy himself some time, Chris reached over the board for the dice. Unluckily, it was at the same time as his companion reached over. She also thought it was her turn. They bumped into each other and with a yelp, accidentally knocked over some items over the edge of the table. They heard a crack.

"It was Chris' fault!"

"Damn it, Mint!"

The old man just facepalmed.

Scrambling, the two children got off the couch and onto the ground. To their dismay, the figurines had broken. The rogue's head had fallen off, while the mirror had split in half.

Chris picked up the pieces of the rogue figurine. "Don't worry Mr. Magpie, with some glue, I can fix it with some glue."

"I – I – I can help too!" Mint picked up the mirror pieces too, but in her hurry, slipped on some cards. "Ack!" She grabbed the table to stabilize herself.

"Mint! Be careful!" Chris scolded her. "Mr. Magpie has been very generous to – "

"Well if you haven't knocked them ove - !"

"Me?! YOU were the one to – "

"It was you!"

"Ok, let's make a compromise, it was both of us ok?"

"Why should I make a close-my-eyes when you are the one that was wrong?! It was my turn!"

The old man stayed out of it, smiling. It was nice to see his house becoming more lively in the future.

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

The day had gone by quite fast for Mint. It was nice living in a home again, with soft beds and even temperatures. While sleeping outside was not that cold because of the climate in this area, the hard-bumpy ground made it hard to sleep well.

She did not mind having actual cooked food to eat either, even if Natasha kept embarrassing her. During supper while Natasha was asking about her favorite foods, the robot had suddenly burst out giggling in glee, and had pulled at Mint's poor cheeks as if the little girl was a baby. She was evil, Mint decided. The purest evilest evil.

On that note, having company was probably the best part about the recent turn of events. After her parents had gone on their little adventure (Mint reinforced in her mind that her parents were alive, no matter the truth), then getting kicked out of the village without as much as an explanation, she felt lonely and abandoned. She spent the first day of her exile sitting under the ruins of a building that doubled as an overhang in shock, before everything sunk in and she cried herself to sleep.

A beeping sound woke her up in the morning. She was tired and sad and sleepy and wanted it to go away, so grumpily yelled at it to shut up. When it didn't she got up and angrily stalked over. It took a long while for her to figure out where it came from, as if the sound moved away every time she moved near it. She ended up at a pile of rotting wood, which she dug up and found a tunnel. Being sensible, she decided not to follow the sound any further.

That changed when dim blue lights lit up inside of the tunnel. It seemed to had happened because of her proximity. The lit-tunnel ignited her curiosity, as it was a strange working technological find in the midst of the ruins. Her starving body caused her mind to recall a few 'end of the world' movies she used to watch with her family where one of the characters built an elaborate doomsday bunker. That explanation for the tunnel felt improbable, but curiosity ate at her and she looked around wearily. Then, she slid in carefully.

This was the way Mint met Mr. Magpie and it basically saved her life. However, there was more to living than just staying alive. Living by herself left her a lot of time to spent, but no one to spend it with.

On the second day of her exile, she spent her time playing with rocks and building fortresses. She imagined herself as a huntress, defending her castle from the forces of evil. It was fun at first.

She imagined herself as the tragic lone huntress, alone against an unending tide of Grimm. All her allies were gone and she was the only one left to defend her home. Even then, she was filled with hope. A shining beacon in the darkness. The Grimm came, and she would meet them blow for blow… until she couldn't. But then, her semblance activates, or a bomb she planted blows up, or some other cunning plan happens, and with her life, she saves the world.

Then each battle slowly felt the same and each semblance she imagined for herself became more unoriginal than the rest. There were only so many battles that she could imagine by herself. Every day that past increased her boredom, and with that extra time to contemplate, it also increased her doubts about ever having a normal life again.

What if her parents really were dead? What if Mr. Magpie couldn't reach her relatives? What if a rock falls on her and she dies? She worried sometimes for everything and sometimes for nothing.

And then, bam, Chris appeared. Someone even younger than her was waddling around! What if he got hurt? She had to protect him, like a huntress!

The little girl found out quickly that the boy could hold his own, but she clings to him, the first person her age she had seen for, like, ever. Sure, he's a bit stuck-up, but wow he's so cool! However, she wasn't sure at first if he liked her company. He was quite cold towards her, after all.

All her fears were invalidated when he came and saved her, thrice! First when he protected her against the four bullies, then against the Grimm, and then when he went to get Mr. Magpie to get rid of the bad men.

It felt nice being protected. It reminded her of the days when her parents would hug her whenever she was scared. Warmth seeped through her at the mere memory.

But right now, as she laid in bed at the end of her long day in pair of donated pajamas, there was none of that feeling of protection. Whenever she closed her eyes, she remembered the beating she had to endure. The accusations they threw at her. How they mocked her struggles and laughed at her tears. It hurt, it really did, and as much as she tried to ignore the events that had happened in the morning, she couldn't.

Her blankets were raised high, covering most of her face but leaving the eyes. Her eyes darted at the shadows in the darkness of the room. The poor girl trembled.

She glanced towards her friend, who was soundly sleeping on another bed beside hers. Chris didn't have any of these fears, it seemed. He faced down three bear Grimm without even having aura and stayed calm. He was like, totally a superhero! But more importantly, whenever she thought of him, she imagined a sense of strength and safety. Strangely, it reminded her of her father.

Alas, she was too far away from him to feel any of that. There was a gap between their beds, a mere few feet, but to her it felt like an ocean. Her exile outside the village with only an imagination to keep her busy had caused her to crave more physical things. The little girl wanted to move over, to feel safe.

But would it be weird? She slept with her parents before and had sleepovers. On the other hand, Chris was not her parent, nor the same gender as her. Was that bad? Was the boy feeling like a father to her enough for it not to be strang –

Crack.

Mint almost jumped at the extremely quiet sound, her whole-body tensing. She frantically look around, taking note of every detail. Had that painting moved? Was it alive? What was the sound? Or maybe… who made the sound?

She couldn't take it anymore.

"Chris!" She called, but made sure it wasn't loud enough to wake Mr. Magpie.

The reply was quiet and muffled. "Hm? Mint?" Chris rolled over to face her, or at least she thinks. She can't see much in the darkness. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

 _Huh_ , she offhandedly notes, _he wakes up quickly._

"I…" Now that she thinks about it, what she wants to ask him is really embarrassing. She was older, she should be the one comforting him. "I… I… canIsleepwithyou?" She blurts out.

"What?" There was a pause. "…Mint, don't ever say that when you are older, alright?"

Mint blinked. _What?_ It was an unexpected response. "Um… yes?" she mumbled.

"Alright. Come over." She go out of bed cautiously, and tipee-toed towards him. He moved over to make room for her and she laid down beside him. He then pulled the covers over them both.

They felt awkward at first, but as time past and they fell closer to sleep, it felt nice. If Mint closed her eyes, she could imagine herself with her parents again. It was warm, and when Chris rolled over and embraced her in his sleep, it also felt safe. The arms were strong, protective, and felt like a solid aura of pure… fatherness? She didn't know how to describe it. However, she did know that for the first time in six – seven days now, she knew things were going to be alright.

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

"They still haven't talked?" The woman asked her subordinate. She sat on a throne of pelt and blades, while the man kneeled, head low in front of her. Relics of her conquests lay around them, from fine chalices to just boxes of random loot. Both of them were in the largest tent in the encampment.

"Their body is weak, but their spirit is strong. Don't worry, we will break them in time." The man assured his leader.

The woman glared at him through her mask, stylized like the bone white ones of the Grimm. "We don't have much time for your incompetence. Wait too long and their relatives will find the chest and recover it."

"Raven, I..."

The woman interrupted him. "I don't want excuses. Is there any other pieces of information that they have relinquished that we can use to… encourage… them to tell us the information that we need?"

"There maybe be one thing…"

"Don't waste my time. Say it."

"Of course. While the wife was delirious, we attempted to trick her into thinking we had her child. From her reaction, it seems like she does have a child, and from her panicked cries, we think that the child, a little girl, may be at the village of Purgatoire."

Raven hmphed. "Ah, the only village in this area that still refuses to pay our protection taxes?"

"Yes."

There was a reason the village was able to still refuse and not be raided by her tribe, and it was because they were strong. Raven respected that, but now, things had changed. Only time would tell if the village was strong enough resist her now.

"Prepare the men. I have a plan to deal with this insolent town…" and under her breath, she muttered. "…and to put that damned power to use." The man didn't hear it as he nodded, before turning to announce her orders.

In his absence, alone in her tent, she moved to a table where a map lay. She needed to work out the intricacies of her idea. The village was surrounded by a forest, a very familiar forest. Her men had caught the husband and wife there, but more importantly… that was where her current path had begun.

She remembered that forest. The shrubs, and other thick vegetation, made it hard to move in. Layers of leaves stole light away from the lower levels, making the place dim and cool to walk through. Insects were present, but not as notable as a rainforest. And Raven hated insects. _She_ used to tease her about it.

 _Her…_

Staring at the depiction of the forest on the map, she lost herself in her memories, where maidens meant more than just young virgin girls. A story of loss, of strength… and of weakness. A story of age old bad blood, sucking the young into a war that was not theirs.

Raven's eyes glowed angrily behind her mask with blue flames, solidifying the lone tear that threatened to drop from her eyes. Her hand came up behind her mask and wiped the tear away. As it fell, her hand unconsciously brushed against her pocket, where a torn piece of white cloth lay.

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

 **Original A/N: Yup, a bit very much late. But hey, its 8700+ words! So, I have a reason. This chapter also includes a lot of important detail, so ha! That's two reasons.**

 **For the people curious about RWBY: Infinity Crisis, well, you'll have to wait. The first chapter was written on a whim so I have to plan it out now. Plus, it is not as positively received as The Path Most Traveled. I use Readers/Followers, so even if there is more followers, it is only because there have been much more readers.**


	6. Chapter 5 Part 1

**A/N: Hey everyone! I got a beta, her name is Courtland! So, all the chapters got a makeover, the prologue has been combined with chapter 1, new scene at the end of chapter 2, and the new chapter, Chapter 5, is the length of TWO (so I split it into P1 and P2)!**

 **Chapter 5: Part 1**

" _I'm so sorry, Chris. We came as soon as we could."_

 _His father's hand was on his right shoulder, while his mother's was on his left. They tried to be comforting, but even though it was nice, it only contrasted the coldness he felt inside and made it seem worse. He ignored the vet in front of them who tried to be comforting._

 _Muncher, a grey furred corgi, had been with him for as long as he could remember. He was a constant companion, especially when all his friends were busy and his sister away. Many rainy days had passed with him and the dog lying on the couch bored out of their minds, his parents away somewhere working._

 _And now, an agonizing wait for them to come home, a stressful drive, and Muncher was just gone, because his parents were too late to drive him to the vet._

 _He knew it was irrational for him to think so, even at that young age, but couldn't his parents ever be around when he needed it? Why weren't they ever there?_

Chris woke up to the sight of messy green hair. Sunlight shone through the window, bathing his companion and his back with an ethereal glow. His covers were warm, contrasting the coldness in his heart left over from the dream. He shivered.

His shiver attempt made him realize his arms were trapped around Mint. One was wrapped around her neck from underneath, while the other went between her side and her left arm to hold her close, keeping her protected in his embrace.

Unlike in… another life, there was nothing sexual about this scene of a male and a female together in a bed. It wasn't just because of their age, though that was a factor. Instead, it was because of a strange pressure around him that he recognized. It was the same strange feeling he felt yesterday morning.

He was certain the blankets wrapped around him weren't the culprit, as they were loose. Plus, even if they were behind the pressure, they couldn't have given off such a complicated feel of… emotions? Slowly, he extracted his arms from Mint, careful not to wake her. He was somehow successful and strangely the pressure lessened as his hands left her body.

Chris had described the feeling as kinship yesterday. He couldn't exactly say why, but there was a mix of warmth and familiarity that stroked the fire of protectiveness inside of him. It was strong, almost otherworldly, even in a world where actual monsters roamed the land.

 _This… aura… so mysterious. Could this be another strange thing about this world?_ He had extremely little information about this whole situation he was in. Better to ask some questions and explore, before coming to any conclusions.

He looked back at Mint. She was still asleep, his movements had been not enough to jar her from her rest. The boy refrained from waking her up. After the whole ordeal yesterday, she deserved to sleep in a bit. Chris got out of bed alone and readjusted the covers after they fell away from her body.

On the nearby nightstand was a digital clock in the shape of a cartoonish blue, white, and black bird. It displayed seven o'clock. Chris stretched his arms, feeling more rested than he had ever been, and cracked his back. He sighed quietly with relief, his arms coming to rest by his sides.

He spied the two cylindrical containers of medicinal cream for Mint's injuries behind the clock. The old man had said to apply it twice everyday, one at night and one in the morning. Chris frowned. The cream helped the injuries very much, but he was much more worried about Mint's psyche. The only real difference that he had noticed in the girl was her being a bit jumpy and needing some comfort, which could be hiding something worse. He would have to monitor her behavior over the next few days.

 _Wait. Why am I caring so much about a random girl?_ He had just met her after all. It had been just a few days, and now he was suddenly worrying about her? While caring after a child who had suffered a traumatic experience would be normal for a civilian, untouched by war, he was different. He had seen what even children could do when circumstances forced them.

Five years of lawless bloodshed had made him realize that kindness was a weakness when living among wolves. When survival was always at the cost of others and death merely a few steps away, you couldn't afford to be nice. So, his circumstances hardened his heart, and over time, he stopped caring so easily.

But now, suddenly he was.

He racked his brain for an explanation and his mind snapped to the two main anomalies he had recently discovered. First of all, his new face and deaged body.

Chris had jokingly said that his mind had been placed into a new body, but what if it was true? A different body meant different muscles, a different spine, and different chemicals. Could that affect his thoughts? Did he even have the same brain? Was his soul transplanted? Chris believed in God, but he understood science as another path to the same truth, an insight into the great machine that He had made. Different hormones are proven to affect mental processes, so Chris couldn't just ignore that no matter how religious he was.

However, this was a hard avenue to investigate with scientific help due to just how outrageous it was. Better to keep his past to himself unless he wanted people to think he was crazy. Same with the strange pressure. Due to its mental nature, he had no proof of it happening. Chris would have to determine if the physical changes had any mental effects by himself. It's also not like he didn't already have a lead, he had that weird kinship feeling that -

He stilled.

What if that was part of his new body? What if everything was real, and by divine intervention, his soul had been sent into a new world? Instead of destroying the existing soul, what if their souls had combined? It was certainly a possibility as his new environment could only be explained by far-fetched theories.

There were so many uncertainties in terms of what was true and what was not. He could not easily accept any of this insanity, from broken moons to demons of darkness. Was he descending into madness?

No truth, no answers, only a million of questions.

 _And sitting here beside a possibly real bed will not give me any further insight into my situation._ He got up and went to the bathroom to go through his morning routine, until he realized that it had been a long time since he had a real bathroom, and this was a strange world with their own hygiene products.

The strange Dust technology that powered everything was especially baffling. The water in the shower didn't come from a plumbing system. Instead, it used water Dust. What kind of place had crystalline water that would not be ice?

Another constant source of annoyance was his height. Due to him being so small, he had to use a step stool to reach the sink. The shower felt huge and he spent many minutes standing on the stool trying to adjust the shower head to spray water where he wanted it to. Whoever had used this shower previously was a real bastard, pointing it too far forward.

Still, he fumbled through everything and came out clean. He put on the clothing Natasha had prepared the previous night. The sheathed dagger went into his pocket. The gun was gone, as the villager leader took it back. About to leave the room, he glanced at Mint.

He had no idea why he felt like it was his duty to protect Mint, but that didn't mean he couldn't protect an innocent child for the sake of protecting her. A good soul, untainted by past evil, pure and able to become so much…

It would be his everlasting shame if she ever came to be harm - further harmed. He must make sure that history did not repeat itself.

Chris went down the stairs, his memories of a different time weighing him down. He was distracted when he heard some kind of commotion in the kitchen and he walked towards it curiously.

"Damn it Natasha! Let me spoil them a bit!"

"Master, that is not healthy! They must eat a balanced diet of food stuffs…"

He arrived at just the right moment, seeing that the robot and the old man were playing tug of war with a cereal box. The old man wore grey sweatpants, and tried too hard to look young with a strange shirt with a cartoon depiction of a white raven. His wrinkles and white hair showed his age, but his stance was strong and firm.

Natasha, on the other hand, stood perfectly upright. It seemed to take no effort for her to counter the old man's strength. That wasn't surprising, as she was a robot. On that note, he had not forgotten about the strangeness surrounding her yesterday. He examined carefully her current form to see if it would change again later.

The general construction of her body was all human like, if not a bit stiff. Her skin had a pale complexion to it and if one squinted, they would see small cracks that made up each skin plate. The real problem was how exaggerated she was. Her expressions expressed too much, her movements too strong, too strict. Her green eyes would have been called bright if they didn't glow with an unearthly aura. The only thing that was perfectly accurate was her rich auburn hair, but hair wasn't exactly alive.

Neither of the two noticed Chris due to the size of the dining room.

Chris' eyes widened as a second after he finished his inspection of the two, the cereal box gave away under the stress. It exploded. Cereal rained over the whole kitchen, going so far as even where Chris was located. Natasha lost her footing and fell over, knocking a bunch of stuff onto the ground. A bag of sugar fell off the shelves and sprayed sugar over her.

The two stared at each other. Each was holding half of the shredded box, cereal and other assorted kitchen substances stuck in odd places.

"...you have the latest AI hardware and you still didn't have enough computing power to see this outcome?" Chris narrowed his eyes. He knew the accent wasn't real. But why would anybody fake an accent?

The android glared at him, putting her hands on her hips. "I didn't expect you to use aura! Shouldn't your years of experience as an aura-wielder have told you that a _cardboard box_ was not strong enough to withstand Grimm-destroying strength?!"

"I… you shouldn't argue with your master!"

"Oh, now you pull that card?!"

"You are being stubborn."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine! It's all my fault, master, forgive me. Let me grab the vacuum."

"That's the spirit." He turned away to prepare breakfast.

The robot shook her head in amusement and went ahead to do her task. "...I should have stayed in Atlas."

The old man stopped. Natasha covered her mouth.

The silence was sudden. With a simple sentence, the playful conversation died. They stood away from each other, neither turning around to face the other.

"You know you are thankful."

Her raised arm dropped tensely. "Thankful for being stolen away from my destiny, my purpose, the reason for my existence?"

There was a pause, both of them silent. The android stayed facing the far wall. She was downcast. Emotions that Chris just couldn't understand passing by the strange almost human-like features, though that could just be because he was seeing her from an angle.

"...I guess I am," she finally said. "I am more free here than I would have ever been if I was part of his plans. I just wish I could have… " She trailed off.

The old man didn't respond.

Chris stepped away, more confused than ever, but felt like he just witnessed something a bit too personal.

Later, the old man and the boy sat at the large table across from each other. Natasha stood beside them, still removing cereal from the crevices between her metal plates. Most of the kitchen was cleaned up now, and when Mint stumbled sleepily to the table, there were no traces of the previous events.

On the table, lay a large array of breakfast food stuff. Bacon, pancakes, cereal, name it and it was there. Chris and Mint dug at their food eagerly, having not eaten real food for some time, while Mr. Magpie watched on. The old man's plate was filled, but he had only eaten a little.

The man turned boy glanced at his benefactor between bites. He noticed the elderly wasn't exactly watching them. Instead, he was lost in thought. Or maybe lost in memories. There was sadness in his eyes. Every crease on his face looked deeper and heavier.

Chris still wasn't sure about his motives and wasn't about to put his guard down. However, he would have to find more information before he'd act . For example, the old man's past. The only problem was how he was supposed to start a conversation and steer it that way. The only sound at the dining table was the sound of his and Mint's eating.

Luckily, the old man took initiative. "So, yah all like it here?"

Mint smiled at him. "Yeah! You got such an awesome house!"

"Mint, finish chewing your food and swallow before you talk," Chris scolded. "And Mr. Magpie, it is a very nice place. May I ask how you have accumulate such wealth?"

"Well, yah can say ah did a little… removals."

Chris took note, but didn't let his expression change. "Removals? That's a strange business. You think maybe we could learn too and - "

"No. Definitely not. Never do wha' ah did." The old man frowned. Seeing the two kids looking at him strange, he added, "It was naht fun and ve'y dangerous."

Mint nodded. She continued eating as if she did not have a care in the world. Chris on the other hand, made sure to remember his words. It did not matter if they were the truth, the words seemed at least half-truths. "I'm sorry if that brings up bad memories, I was just thinking of ways we could pay you back."

The old man looked surprised. "Yah'll still thinking ahf wahrking?"

"Even if it's not for any monetary bonus, then at least think of it as training a skill to allow ourselves to fend for ourselves."

It was never good to be completely under someone else's protection. When your life was in someone else's hands, it meant they could do whatever they wanted with you. A fact that Chris knew all too well.

Seeing Chris' and, surprisingly, also Mint's determined faces, the old man conceded. "If yah'll really want to, then ah can't stahp ya'll. Just nathing dangerous, undahstood?"

Nothing dangerous… like running into the forest full of deadly monsters so that he could search for two missing adults? The boy remembered about his promise to Mint. While the limit of Mr. Magpie's hospitality was still unknown, Chris could at least assume that shelter and sustenance will be not a problem for the near future. That meant he could start the search for Mint's parents earlier. However, it wouldn't need to be Chris who could go searching anymore.

Chris glanced at Natasha, who was standing nearby at the ready. Could the old man have more servants like her? Maybe a fleet of drones?

"Mr. Magpie, you are aware that Mint's parents disappeared, correct?"

"Aye. Ain't sure wha' 'ppened exactly, but one day, it was jahst suddenly one lone gal. Then the villagas star'ed calling out for 'er blood, and ah'm naht a man to let children get beat on! Mint, wha' exactly happened?"

The males at the table turned to Mint, who shrank under their gaze. She nervously played with her dress.

"Mint?" the old man asked.

She stared down at her lap.

Chris intervened. "It was a stressful few days for her. If she doesn't want to talk, then she doesn't have to talk. We should wait till she is ready."

The old man stared at him in surprise at his maturity.

"...no. No. I can talk." Their attention was drawn back to the little girl.

"You sure?"

"Y-yes." Her hands gripped her dress tightly.

She spoke of how her and her parents had arrived at the town by foot. Her father was a huntsman and her mother was a shopkeeper. They were going to move elsewhere, as they weren't well liked by the rest of their family.

The old man interrupted, curious. "Why?"

"I… I don't really know, but I rarely talked to my aunties or my grandparents. Dad always disagreed with them on some pretty stones… something about embers?"

"Ambers?" Chris wondered if she was talking about some kind of family heirloom. He glanced at the other male on a whim and saw the old man's gaze sharpen.

"Do yah know wha' they were thlking about, when 'ey said amber?" The old man asked.

Mint shrugged. "Nope. I think it was about money…" The old man was weirdly skeptical, but backed off. "Then, we came here and got a room at the local Inn." She realized something. "Ah! Now that we're friends with the villagers, we need to grab the luggage!"

"We'll grab it right aftah. Can you continue yer story? Ah think finding yer parents is 'ore important."

The girl nodded. "Of course! It was a few hours after that, when dad said he was going to head out to do whatever he came here to do. He grabbed a box and left."

Chris carefully examined the old man for any changes in expression. There were none, but it could have just been a good poker face. Why were 'ambers' of interest at all? Was it their value, or something else?

"Then, when he didn't return for a day, me and mom got realllly worried. So mom left to look after him too in the forest, but now she's gone too… When she still wasn't here on the second day, I couldn't pay the lady at the Inn and they kicked me out."

"Does… does your mom do that a lot? Leaving you at home alone?" Chris carefully asked. That didn't sound like responsible parents.

"No! Never! She's normally a worrywart. I can't even walk to the neighbor's house without her going with me. I couldn't do anything alone!" Her complaints died. "...and now she's just gone…"

Chris grimaced. It was strange to see such a sad expression on a child, and it tore at his black heart. The feeling of compassion was so unexpected for a hardened man like him that he couldn't stop himself from squeezing her hand to comfort her. She looked up at him, her lips quivering, but lacking any tears.

It had been a week. The chances that her parents were still alive in a forest infested with monsters of the dark were slim. Some part of her must have accepted it...

"Ah've ha' drones look a'ound in the forest since ah've met her. Ah've found no bodies, just a few bandits. Ah'll keep looking… but…"

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone knew what he was going to say.

Chris sought for Mint to finish her story, searching for a change in topic. "But why did the villagers hate you?"

Mint let go of his hand and looked away. "...promise you'll still be my friend afterwards?"

The boy blinked. "Y-yes! Of course!"

"It was the day after they kicked me out… I was really hungry and alone. I wandered the village till I met a man at the gate, who asked me to click a button on the wall everytime it buzzed. If I do that, he'll get me a snack, he said. So I said yes. He seemed nice..."

The two kids jumped as the old man suddenly face palmed, before groaning.

"Slackers on guard duty?! Ah'm going to have their ass for this!" He was visibly angry.

"Everytime it buzzed?" Chris asked.

His furious eyes turned to him. "Aye. We 'ave watchers on tha walls in case ahf Grimm incursions, and ah guard ah tha gate tah verify the identity of anyone wanting tah come in, as the watchers ha' hardah time recognahzing people from their posts. The buzz is just ah doorbell to let tha guard know someone is there."

"And this guard let a child do the job for him." Chris deadpanned.

"Ah guess it 'ad been peaceful and he wa' complacent," the old man forced out. .

"But that's no excuse! Ah'm gonna find him and ha'e words with him! Strong words… Especially since he lied and got a little girl wrongly hunted!" He smashed his deceptively weak looking fist into the table, jostling everything on it and making everyone jump.

The old man's expression softened as he faced Mint. "And Mint? It wasn't yahr fault tha' those people died."

The eyes of the young girl met her elder's - and Chris, onlooking from the side, was surprised at just how complicated his expression was. So much was being communicated, from the tired wrinkles to his weary but still even gaze. Opposing it, Mint's young age was made more apparent by her youthful skin, her eyes filled with the naive hopes of a child.

However, her experience with the villagers had left marks. One of her smooth cheeks were still bruised from her beating, and her skin seemed to cling too close to her bones due to malnutrition. Chris' hands, one holding a fork and the other laid gently on the table, tightened.

Mint looked away. "I just hope the other girl is alright too…"

The old man blinked. "Othah gurl?"

"Yah… one of the village girls came over and helped me."

"Helped yah open tha gate? Ugh. Ah need to talk tah these villajers… they should knah bettah."

 _Huh_. _He never seems to refer to himself as a villager. Is he an outsider?_ Chris idly thought. He wasn't too interested in the conversation anymore. A guard let a child man his station, and when stuff went wrong, blamed the child. Not surprising. How typical. He fingered his fork. But if Chris ever found out who the guard was, that man was going to have a very bad day indeed.

"Wha' wah her name? The child?"

"Um… Vernal, I think?"

The old man frowned. "There ain't nobody named Vernal here. Yah sure tha's what her name wa'?"

"...uh, not really, sorry..."

"Tha's alright, Mint. Ah'll just make ah general announcement."

The poor girl didn't seem reassured at all. .

"Mint, it's not your fault." Chris tried. It came out a bit too forceful. He was never good at reassurance. "It was the guard. He was older and should have known better."

She brought her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. Her eyes were firmly focused below the table. Mint mumbled something under her breath.

The old man looked horrified.

"What?" Chris asked sharply.

"I thought you had already ran off by then!" The old man gasped.

Mint tightly shook her head. "I got scared when the bandit came in roaring with his dust blades… I hid in the guard room, and... s-saw… saw…"

She looked so tiny and so miserable that Chris pulled her closer to him, and wrapped her in his embrace without even thinking. She didn't respond to it, only squeezed her eyes tightly shut as memories she wished to forget went through her mind.

"...they didn't look like people a-anymore. T-there were pieces… a-and…" she hiccuped. "A-and he just didn't _stop_."

"Mint…" Chris whispered.

The old man took it worse. He boiled with rage. "If I hadn't already killed that bastard…" He growled. "I should have kept him alive for days just to torture that piece of shit!" He didn't even seem to realize that he'd forgotten to fake his accent.

Chris used one of his hands to tip Mint's head closer to his chest and awkwardly stroked her hair, vaguely remembering a few things his sister used to do to comfort him a long time ago.

The three of them sat silently for a few seconds. Natasha stood beside them, unsure what to do.

The man turned boy had forced a calm expression onto his face. On the inside, he was filled with determination. What he had thought about this morning came back to him, and he was now certain of his path. Atonement started here. Getting away from this horrible village was secondary.

'All it takes for evil to succeed is for good men to do nothing', the old saying went. Chris hated it with a passion, but couldn't deny that it applied perfectly to his situation. To abandon her and leave just to possibly save more people was foolish. To do so would reduce people into soulless statistics, empty calculations lacking anything that made humanity worth anything.

Maybe meeting her was an act of God, Chris rationalized. He had lost so much during those five years of constant hell. Thankfully, so long as His watch over the world continued, there would still be good in the world, no matter how dark it seemed, even sinners like Chris would be redeemed. Love would prevail in the end. He had to believe it. For if there was no God… if there was no absolute good...

Chris angrily cut that thought short.

What was important was for him to save Mint. No, to protect her. The strangeness of the old man was unsettling, and many dangers still remained hidden in the darkness.

Chris' resolute and unwavering gaze, glowing with purpose, met the old man's. "We should get her parents' belongings as soon as possible. See if there's any leads to her parents' whereabouts."

The old man was taken aback by the child's determination. "...ah sure. Maybe give Mint here ah bi' mor' time…"

The little girl looked up and sniffled. "N-no… I'm good." She wiped her eyes with her bare arms. She looked quite miserable.

"You certain?" Chris asked as softly as he could.

"I… I need to do something. Anything. I don't want to think about them anymore."

Chris stroked her back. "Atta girl. Don't worry. Life always goes on, no matter what happens." Pride strangely swelled up within him. Mint was strong. She'd pull through. He turned to the old man. "And, about these bandits. Are they just mindless killers, like these 'Grimm'?" He wanted to make sure.

"Nah. They are jahst humans like us."

"A group of criminals then. Exploiting the lawless extremes of civilization."

"Tha's true, but they are more than tha'. They are wha' remains of tha' old ways, ah time when humanity didn't live in cities, but in tribes. They believe tha' strength is everything. Archaic and outdated, they are like ah cancer tha' wasn't cut out ye'. Why yah ask?"

Chris frowned. "Just seemed weird that one of them would attempt to just walk up to the walls alone. Is it more than coincidence that the guard neglected his duties at exactly the same time?"

"Aye, unlikely," the old man agreed, "but evahry generation or so, there'll ahlways be ah psychopath. Ah was suspicious too, but ah found nothing to prove there wa' more tah it."

Chris mentally noted the strange wording. Every generation or so was strangely specific.

"Anyways, Natasha, can yah get Mint ready tah go outside?"

Chris unsurely let go of Mint. Mint was just as hesitant to leave his embrace, but then she was hug-attacked by a worried android, and almost completely forgot all about how sad she was.

"Mistress Grass! You poor little thing! If I could hug that horrible sorrow out of you, I would! Now let's get you cleaned up." Natasha tightly squeezed, pulled her from her seat at the table and swung Mint gently side to side as she talked.

"Eeeep!"

Their sounds slowly faded away as they both went upstairs, leaving Chris and the old man alone.

"Chris."

"Yes?"

The two males stared at each other.

"How are yah so mature?"


	7. Chapter 5 Part 2

**A/N: DO NOT START READING HERE! This is Part 2 of Chapter 5 (this update came with two new chapters). Full A/N on Part 1 of Chapter 5. Prologue is now integrated into chapter 1, that's why there's 7 chapters in total now.**

 **Beta: Courtland**

 **Chapter 5: Part 2**

 _~The Path Most Travelled~_

 _Shit_. It should be noted that Chris was a great actor, but only at the role he'd played for so long. Chris kept his face and body calm.

"Yah use words tha' are much tah big for yah age, and speak with wisdom much beyond yah years."

Two wolves circling each other was the best way to describe the two. Each examining their opponent for every twitch, waiting to pounce on the first mistake.

Chris' palms started to sweat. He just had to play the stupid amnesia card. It was too easy of a cop-out. Anyone would have been suspicious. Anyone that was not a child, that is.

"I…"

The old man held up a hand to stop him. "Lemme try something first. Touch mah finger."

The old man raised his hand and then lowered it in an attempt to touch Chris'. Chris, unsure of what he should be doing, raised his arm and did so. Their fingers met, but only just so.

 _~The Path Most Travelled~_

 _Is it not a parent's job to build a better future for their children? To take the shattered world they were given, and make sure that the next generation will inherit a better one?_

 _I sighed._

 _Our children did not decide to be born. We were the ones who decided for them, and we were the ones to teach them during those vulnerable years. They may be their own person, but it is from our clay and from our hands that we molded them._

 _So it is our duty, our responsibility, to see that if the world burns… they will not burn with it._

 _I stared above from the encampment in front of him. People milled about the tents, hurriedly preparing for yet another expedition. Campfires were being put out, equipment folded up and piled into wagons, and fortified positions taken down. From my cliff, I could see every single person._

 _Especially her, training our little chicks to walk mindlessly down the same goddamn path we did._

 _~The Path Most Travelled~_

Chris' eyes went wide and his fingers flinched away.

"What was that?!" Chris yelped, but he knew exactly what it was. A memory. He had no idea how he knew, but he did. It felt alive, but distant, like a recollection of an event long past. What was crazy, was that in that moment, he had been whoever that person had been .

The old man smiled. "Tha', Chris, was aura resonance."

 _Could that have been one of the old man's memories? What if the old man had seen some of mine?_ Chris' heart started to pound faster, but none of it showed on his face.

"Aura resonance? It was so… so…"

"Aura is tha physical manifestation of ahr souls. When two auras resonate, it means tha' the two souls are compatible. Tha' could mean anything, but it is assured ha'e lots of things in common. It's also tha only way, other than a near death experience, tha' someone can unlock their aura. Ah felt the resonance since we met, and tha's why ah trust yah to an extent."

Chris didn't know what to say. His worst fears hadn't occurred. It looked as though the old man hadn't viewed any of his bad memories in return. Otherwise, the old man would have been horrified.

"Physical manifestation?" He racked his brain as he tried to remember what Mint told him about auras a few days ago, but there was just too much crazy to sort through.

"Aye. Enhanced physical strength, durability, tha' kind of thing."

The man turned boy pinched himself. "But I don't feel stronger than normal."

Though now that he thought about it, during his fight against he Grimm, a few actions had been a bit inhuman for a child like him. For example, shooting the dust gun. To have been able to knock him back the way it did without hurting his arm was strange.

"Ah! That's because yer aura is partially locked." Seeing Chris' mild confusion, he continued. "It's ah strange phenomenon that 'as been documented many times in history. Rather more of ah legend, rahlly. Tha story of tha Man with Two Souls. Ah story ahf reincanation."

 _...what the fuck._

The old man chuckled. "Tha story speaks ah men 'emembering old lives and gaining new ahbilities ahvernight. These men who ahre been cursed by the gods may nahver die, forced intah a circle of reincarnation till their task is fulfilled."

Chris' land also had these legends. Yet, here he was in a different world where there were literal beasts of darkness hiding in the woods. He hadn't forgotten their inhuman size, glowing red eyes, or the fact that they disintegrated to dust when killed. In a fantastic land as such, how did he know what could happen and what could not?

It was easily noted that this legend also had lots of similarities to his situation. Body switching? Check. Cursed by the gods? Maybe. Task? ...maybe not the last one. No burning bushes yet.

"It sounds familah, doesn't it?" The old man took his contemplative silence as sign of something more.

Chris was terribly out of his depth. What was he supposed to say? His last few days were insane. Part of him still didn't believe that everything was real.

The old man continued. "Ah know it sounds crahzy, but yah can say ah'm ah bit rooted in tha' old ways. Tha soul has always been ah mysterious thing, who is tah say that's impossible? Even with todah's technology, much ahs still unknown about it."

Still unsure, but not seeing any other way to get out of this situation, Chris reluctantly confirmed the old man's theory. "I'm not certain… but I do remember things that I shouldn't be able to. The memories are coming back slowly."

Mr. Magpie inspected him just as closely as Chris was inspecting him. Two sides of the same coin, each staring at a side of themselves that they didn't even know existed.

"Wha' do yah remember?"

Chris squeezed shut his eyes. The loaded question brought back not battlefields, but slaughters. Each scene flashed before him like a slideshow of horror, slapping him in the face with how low humanity could get. His breath caught. His throat tightened. His hands clamped around the table's edge.

 _Stop. You already dealt with this. Why is the pain so fresh?_

Realizing what was happening, he forced his eyes to open.

 _It's all in the past. Get a grip, Chris._

But it wasn't all in the past. A man was defined by his choices, and Chris knew exactly what choices he had made. He knew exactly what kind of man he was.

"I see." The calm words from the old man broke the boy's trance. "No wonder we resonate."

Chris removed his hands from the table and tried to calm down his tense muscles. It wasn't the time to have flashbacks. Right now, he should focus on solidifying his position in this strange world.

The resonance implied that the old man had done things he wasn't proud of. That was alright. What put Chris on edge was what it meant for their situation. Two men who have bloodied their hands now lived in proximity. Two wolves living in the same den. Either they could become a pack, or a fight may ensue.

With so many resources in the hands of the old man, Chris was certain he would not be the victor of a battle. After all, he had experience with guns and makeshift explosives, not androids.

"Chris… your secrets are yours, just as mine are mine. You don't have to talk about your past if it hurts."

It was an olive branch. Chris took a breath of relief. "I'm sorry, Mr. Magpie. I'll try my best to answer any questions you have, however."

"Ah'll admit to be terribly curious. Wha' does it feel like to be reincarnated?"

Give some information, hold back the rest. Keep your cards close to your chest even around the people you should trust. Risk management. It wasn't that he should trust no one, it was more just planning for the worst.

"I… I died, then I woke up in this body. I don't remember anything happening in the middle."

"Ah, so yah weren't reincarnated as ah baby?"

He nodded.

"Wha' 'bout memories of this body?"

Chris shook his head. "I think I gained the body's muscle memory, and maybe some personality, but as far as I'm aware that's it ."

Though what had happened to the person? He remembered blood, and a knife. Oh… He felt stupid. "I think he was already dead, actually."

He forced down an involuntary wince. While he was desensitized to death, it felt like disrespect to walk around in someone else's flesh. But if the old man was right and this was reincarnation, then it technically wasn't disrespecting the dead, right?

The old man hummed in thought. "About these secrets of yahrs… they won't hurt Mint, will they?"

"No." Chris confirmed. Hard for anybody to take revenge when you were literally worlds away. "I can assure you that it will not affect you or Mint at all."

"Tha's good enough for me. Ya 'ave any questions in 'eturn?"

Position too insecure. Don't probe for weaknesses. Ask expected questions. "May I ask which memory you saw?"

A white eyebrow was raised by the old man. "Wha'? Memory?"

"Wasn't that what aura resonance was supposed to do?"

"Yah saw a memory?" The old man's voice was off. Chris rushed to give more details.

"Y-yes. A man, staring from a cliff at a village. Something about the duty of parents." The boy quickly expanded. It looked like seeing memories was not part of aura resonance after all.

Thankfully, the old man was put at ease. "Ah. Tha' must be a semblance. Every aura wielder has a semblance. Ah special ahbility that their soul, and only their soul, provides due to the special way it manifests in the physical world. Yours must be some kind of memory viewing."

Chris blinked. Monsters in the dark, heroes of light wielding their souls as a weapon, and now superpowers? Did he just fall into some kind of anime? He idly entertained the thought of saving people while making cool poses.

"So, did that resonance thing unlock my aura fully?" Who would ever say no to superpowers?

"Nah, tha' was just tah show yah about it. Ah can do it latah though. Here comes Mint." They both heard loud footsteps upstairs as someone ran above them.

"I'm done!" Mint yelled out as she and Natasha came down the stairs. Cleaned up and changed into a new pretty green dress, she looked far from the dirty and poor girl he saw a few days ago. Neither one of them were aware of the conversation that had taken place down below.

The old man smiled at her. "Alright, let's get going, 'en."

Ten minutes later, the four of them were walking down the main street. The Inn was a short distance away due to the size of the village. As there were no paved roads in the village, just very old unmaintained cobblestones, they didn't bring a cart. In between Mr. Magpie and Natasha, Mint clenched Chris' hands with both her own.

Chris noted that many of the villagers still sent distrusting glances, but just as many were more positively curious. In a village like theirs, nothing interesting ever happened, so the two new kids were a welcome addition. A few were even smug, feeling vindicated now that the green haired child was proven innocent.

One of these men approached them with a friend in tow. Mint, or rather, Grass, squeezed the hand she was holding even tighter. Chris, feeling her uneasiness, readied himself. If only he wasn't a child, then he could be properly intimidating.

"Hello! I'm Tau, and this is Karl." He said with a wide beaming smile. "Welcome to our humble village! Karl, say hi!"

His friend, Karl, mumbled a greeting. He looked quite uncomfortable.

Mint let out a gasp and ran behind Chris. "H-he was one of them!"

Chris narrowed his eyes.

"Yes he was. Now, Karl, what did we talk about just five minutes ago?"

Karl mumbled something.

"Karl, don't be a bitch!"

"Sorry."

"Not to me! To the little lady!"

Karl sighed. "Sorry."

The other man rolled his eyes. "And not with that tone! You are impossible!"

"Sorry."

"That's better! Now, we'll be off, I apologize for everything our village has done. You see, we are quite high strung due to the bandits." With a cheery wave, Tau turned to leave, but his friend did not. "Karl?"

Karl sighed. "Look, kid? Grass, right? Terribly sorry for the misunderstanding. I don't know what I can do to make it up to you, but I'll be in your debt till then." Without even waiting for a response, he walked off stiffly.

Mint poked her head out from behind Chris, unsure of what to say.

"Tha's tha village." Everyone turned to look at the old man. "Yer ha'e all seen tha bad side of it, but ah can guarrantee tha' eve'yone here's jahst as human as you are. They're nice people, but hard living does things to people. Bad things."

Chris nodded along. He knew that all too well. It did not mean that he wanted to stick around with people like this for long though. It was best to get Mint out of here as soon as possible.

They walked along the road some more. Chris recognized the buildings he saw on the first day, and finally got to see the little market area. It wasn't much, just a few stands made from wooden planks that were hastily put together. Many of them were of variety of different types of wood. Chris would have sworn that some of them looked like they were directly taken from the ruins outside the village.

The area was as filled with as much activity as a village with only one hundred people could have. All sorts of necessary goods were traded here, from fish, to more fish, and wasn't that some more fish…

Chris blinked. It looked like his questions about how the village survived were now answered. There were some fruits and vegetables, but those were probably picked rather than farmed. Lastly, there was a stand selling what looked to be barrels of wine.

Chris suddenly realized something as he looked at the barrels stacked ontop of a cart. "Mr. Magpie, I don't want to sound unthankful of your help, but is there no transportation system we can use to send Mint back home?"

"Ah, Chris. Ah was wondering when you'd ask. Like ah told Mint, sadly, no. There are no trade routes set ahp. Tha village is very isolated. If we wanted tah make the journey by walking, we'll need an escort and naht one with old bones like mine. Plus, thah villahgers need me here. My drones and othah... surprises, keep them safe."

"What about those huntsmen from before?" Not that Chris would trust one of _them_ with Mint. "Can't you pay them or something? Does it cost a lot? I'll do what I can to pay you back."

Mint, still holding his hand, squeezed tighter on his right. Chris turned to look at her, thinking she had something to say, but she looked away the moment he saw him looking at her. He blinked in confusion.

"Going through tha lands without advanced machinery is very dangerous even with a huntsmen. In addition, they are needed here to protect their families. Ah can't do everything alone." The old man grimaced. "Ah wish ah could do more without sacrificing tha safety of everyone here, but with how the bandits seem to be more active…"

"What about Grass' parents?"

"That's ah good question, actually."

They turned to Mint.

"If you don't mind us asking, that is." Chris added.

She weakly smiled at him. "No, that's alright. Dad was very strong! The strongest. And he had a semblance where he could cover any of us with his aura!"

That would have been cool to have. Basically allowed him to turn his defenseless family members into superhumans too. "I understand." Chris really did. And then he suddenly didn't. He stopped in the middle of the road. The rest stopped a few steps later when they noticed Mint had also ceased to walk. "Mr. Magpie, if there are no transportation systems, how is that man selling… that?" Chris pointed at the offending item.

It has a seven foot tall plush of a cartoonish Ursa, not that Chris knew what an Ursa was. The grown man beside it was talking animatedly about its quality. He was surrounded by a number of children, all who were entranced. Their parents were much less so, due to what was written on its ridiculously big price tag. Chris glanced at his side and even Mint was staring at it with wide eyes.

The old man looked sheepish. "Ah, well there is one, but it's one way only. Yah see, we get rocket shipments every six months. Eve'yone who's well off enahgh can grab othah things than ba'e necessities."

Chris thought he heard something strange. "Rocket shipments."

"Ay. We use our extremely slow CCT tah send requests, and tha governments sends us shipments."

"Rocket. Shipments." Chris emphasized the first word.

"Ay. Yah don't know wha' rockets are?"

"No, no. I meant, why use rockets?"

The old man raised an eyebrow at him. "Tha's the cheapest way, obviously. Atlas manufactures them a' ah very cheap cost. So cheap even students at huntsmen academies get ah yearly max of four rocket lockers tah store their gear tah allow them to call in their weapons whe'ever they need it."

Chris made a slow exasperated, confused, and bewildered blink. _Bizarro land. That's what this is._ "Well, I guess if they have parachutes, at least the items inside won't be damaged..."

The old man stared at him. "Why' would they h've parachutes?"

 _What the fuck._

It was obvious he still had much to learn about this strange new land.

"Anyways, we're also here." The old man pointed to a building next to the toy stand. "Thah Arc-en-Ciel Tavern. Thah's only place in town with 'ooms for visitors."

It was just as broken down and faded as the other buildings, but had two floors. The windows were broken but it was still quite lovely, with the sound of music and loud chatter coming from it. One of the doors in the single doorway lay broken on the ground, while the other was hanging by its bottom hinge. The group of four walked in.

Loud. That's how Chris would describe the tavern on the first floor. Not that there were a lot of people. At this time of day, there were only five, three of them customers and a middle aged lady behind the counter. The last one, sitting on a makeshift stage, was the reason for all the loudness. Chris' brain screeched to a halt.

The man had his wild multicolored hair done up in a mohawk. He wore a leather jacket, a pair of army pants, and a pair of rainboots. But that wasn't what caught Chris' attention. What did was what the man was doing. In one of the musician's hands was a drumstick that he used to smash at the air. The other hand was empty, instead he was waving it around as if he was painting a masterpiece. His feet were rhythmically tapping the floor. However, none, _none_ of that explained at all how the rock music was coming from him!

" _That lady has the iron! A sharpened sword hidden by a smile, showing teeth underneath her concern!"_

"Wooo!" One of the customers cried, and a small part of Chris that hadn't been broken noticed that they were quite young. Anyone older were off working, most likely.

The old man noticed Chris' stare and chuckled. "Ah, ah see that you have forgotten tha' part too. Semblances are quite varied. Tha man's name is Bae, short for Beyond Zae. His semblance is tha abilitah tah make certain sounds by striking the air in specific ways."

Chris turned to him, still confused. "Beyoncé?" The word sounded familiar, but he wasn't quite sure why.

"No, Beyond Zae." The old man stretched out each syllable. "He's ah traveling minstrel, goes from village to village and picks up new music for everyone. It's always ah pleasu'e ha'ing him here."

The bartender smiled at the old man. "Ah! Mr. Magpie! Nice to see you here with Natasha and…" There was a quick pause as her eyes met Chris'. Something flashed over her face, but it was too fast for Chris to recognize it. "...the orphans, right?" She wore an elegant red dress, but like everything else in the town, it was repaired with patches of almost matching material. It was quite conservative.

Mr. Magpie didn't notice the strange pause, or just didn't comment on it. "Chris, Grass, this is tha wife of tha village chief, Ms. Canes."

"Nice to meet you Ms. Cane." Chris greeted politely.

"Hi…" Mint said. She was back behind Chris.

The woman walked around the counter and leaned against the side of it that was closest to her visitors. It revealed that her dress went all the way down to her ankles.

"Awww don't you worry Mint, it wasn't anything personal." She grabbed a wet cup and started wiping it. "My darling husband's just a bit… forward sometimes. Do excuse him." She made one motion, and put the glass away. The glass sparkled. "His heart is in the right place, on the other hand. As an apology, why don't you choose a single piece of jewelry from my collection?"

Mr. Magpie frowned. "Ah do not approve of wha' yah did, but ah think tha' tha's in the past now. Ah appreciate you trying tah make amends, but we've got to move Mint's things right now. Tha' ah'right with yah? She'll come by latah. Much later." He said the last part with some tension.

"Of course." She said smoothly, smile still on her face. Then, she turned to Chris. "Ah, the orphan who saved my son. I've got something for you too. Come with me to the backroom. Never say I don't repay my debts…"

Chris looked at both the adults. Something was going on. He looked at the old man beside him for advice, but he just stayed silent.

"That's alright, I don't want to impose." Chris politely replied. "It was merely the right thing to do." To save his own ass.

"No, no, I insist." The smile was still there.

The old man sighed. "Chris, jahst go with 'er. She'll nag yah till yah capitulate."

Reluctantly, Chris followed the woman as they descended down a hallway. She held open the door of a room, still with that same smile. He tensed, but still walked in. If anything happened, he could scream. And if the worst happened, it was only his second life anyways. He didn't need a second to know he wasn't a good man. The woman followed him in. All the while Chris kept his eye on her.

All he could tell about the room was that it was some kind meeting area, before suddenly the woman burst into action, almost faster than Chris could even see. Before he knew it, the door was closed, and he was slammed against the floor. A long thick wooden stick pressed against his throat, choking him.

"You dare show your face around here again?!" The smile was still there, but menacing. "Big mistake, bandit. I'll take care of you like I took care of you last time, with your own blade." She kicked his left pocket, where the blade Chris found was still inside.

He struggled against the stick, but his body was only of a child. The woman's strength was enormous in comparison to his. He thought of using aura, but he had no idea how to use it.

"Urgh…" He thought to push the staff aside, but that would just introduce the stick's wooden end to a different part of his neck.

"Your struggles are useless. Let's see you die, like the scum you are, knowing that you will die without being _able_ to do anything." The words were still sweet. Chris would have hated it if he wasn't so resigned. If he died here… it wouldn't be that bad.

In a desperate last struggle, he tried to hit aside the stick anyways. However, her strength, empowered by aura, was so insane that he couldn't even budge it. Darkness started encroaching in his vision.

And then suddenly they were just standing in the room facing each other. He could breathe again, and took a deep desperate breath. His hands jumped to his throat in instinct. There was nothing there, and his throat didn't hurt.

"Wha…" the hell?!

"Ah." She was still smiling. "Looks like you really do have amnesia."

He took a step back.

"No need to be afraid," her voice was soothing. It shouldn't have been. "I thought you may have saved my son just to get on the village's good side again. I had to make sure. It is a mother's duty to defend her children, obviously, and the whole village are my children. However, now I see that you really do have amnesia. If you didn't, you would have done the same thing as last time. Used my spear against me."

Adrenaline was pumping through his veins. His heart was pounding. "I… what?"

She did a swift motion, lifting up her right foot, swiped her hand underneath her dress and revealed the stick from before, but half as short. "Last time we fought, you took advantage of its hidden extension button and shortened it while I was using it." She showed him the button. "However, you didn't expect me to wrestle your blade away from you before stabbing you with it. Aah. Good times." She recalled wistfully.

Chris took another step back.

"I must say that your reactions really do match your story. You are like a whole different person. How unfortunate." She commented as she put her weapon away. Then, realizing what she said, she coughed. "I mean, how fortunate."

Chris would have taken another step back if there wasn't a wall there.

"Now, now, come with me. We'll get you reunited with Mr. Magpie and his other cute little charge." She opened the door and motioned for him to follow her. "And remember to not speak of this incident, hm?"

He nodded dumbly.

"Good boy. Lastly, I know you are wondering about it."

 _About how I'm still alive?!_

"What just happened is my semblance. My semblance... is time manipulation." And with that, she led him out.

"Chris, yah alright?" The old man asked worriedly the moment he saw him. Chris' three companions were about to go upstairs.

Ms. Cane spoke up before Chris could. "Oh! Silly me, all that thank you talk and I forgot about your real reward, Chris. You want to come with me so you can choose on - "

"No!" Chris quickly replied. "I'm good. Very good. I'll go help Mint with her luggage now…"

The old man looked at him with pity. "Aye… let's go upstairs now."

"Oh, what a shame. Feel free to come by later then!" She covered her mouth to giggle daintely.

Chris almost ran up the creaky wooden stairs.

Two hours later, they were back on the dirt street. Natasha carried two large suitcases, while the old man carried a backpack, and Chris lugged a small blue cloth bag.

"You sure that isn't too heavy, little master?" The android asked. She was holding both of the suitcases, not by pulling on them, but each on a single shoulder. Her stride was easy as if she was unburdened.

"No… I… I can do this." Chris missed his old body. He had both hands underneath the bag and carried it on his chest, but for a child like him, it was incredibly hard.

The android hummed. "Is this what the women were talking about when they talked of men being macho?" She gave a look at the old man. "Then old master is very macho indeed."

The old man grumbled beside them, this time on Mint's left. "Something yah just gotta do yerself. Hey, Chris, Ms. Canes didn't do anything tah yah, did she?"

"...hngggh oof!" The boy dropped the bag onto the group. He glared at it. "Alright. Natasha, could you please…" she already kneeled down, balancing her suitcases perfectly on her shoulder, and grabbed the bag as a display of her inhuman balance. "...thanks. And no, she did absolutely nothing except thank me for saving her son."

The old man laughed. "Don't worry Chris, she does it tah eve'ybody. She's ah big motherhen, tha' tha' lady is!"

Chris had a good feeling that no, she did not do _that_ to everyone else. "So… she told me her semblance was time travel. Isn't that a bit insane for a semblance."

Mint giggled beside him at his change of topic, receiving an annoyed glance.

"Ah, it is! But nah, its naht time travel. It's time manipulation."

"I'm not sure about the difference, but that's still quite powerful." Chris guessed that if his semblance allowed him to see memories, then doing things to time was obviously also possible… right? After all, memories were just chemical reactions in brain. How does touching someone even 'find' a memory, then communicate it to his own brain, play it, and match all the sensory information to the right neurons?

"She ha' tha ability ta take the next thirty seconds of an area outta the timeline, then can choose if it happens or not. She can't exactly time travel, but it's pretty close."

Chris blinks. "And how exactly is that not ridiculous?"

"Well, she can't do it ah lot as it uses up aura. Large spaces like tha tavern is 'eally hard to manipulate, and if there's any humans, forget about doing it twice in one day! For some reason, it's especially hard for her to do. Must be sahme soul hijink- "

"Sir." Natasha interrupted. "I think I see something coming, directly coming from the sun."

The three humans looked up in reflex, but then remembered why they couldn't look up at the sun with a wince.

"What's going on, Natasha!"

"Objects. It looks like… dodge!" The android pushed them all to the side. Two huge black feathers embedded themselves where they were, and a third was deflected to the side by Natasha with a metallic clang. "Nevermores! Numerous!" She dropped the luggage.

The villagers around them dropped what they were doing too, and rushed to the safety of their homes as more feather blades descended upon them. Huntsmen jumped to their protection.

"Natasha! Take the kids!" The old man barked.

"On it!" She reached down to grab Mint, but her eyes widened as she stuck out her hand to defend against something.

A large Grimm bird in the shape of a house-sized raven, with bone plates on its head, smashed into her. The force of the impact pushed her back twenty feet, carving a trench into the earth. At the last moment, Natasha had grabbed the monster's beak and forced all its momentum into another direction away from her softer companions.

"Shit! This many?!" The old man got up, his aura having protected his old bones from his fall. He had no weapons on him. "Natasha, house party protocols!"

There were few huntsmen, and too many Grimm. Their numbers turned the sky black, and on the ground, it looked as if a shadow had come across the village.

"Already activated! I am - " Two other Nevermores swarmed Natasha in addition to the earlier one, she was now cut off from Chris' view.

All over the town, hidden turrets extended from numerous surfaces. Unlike normal ones, these were silent and fired off lasers. With pinpoint accuracy, they fired at the Grimm incursion. The turrets helped immensely, and only about a tenth landed on the ground. Unlike ballistic ones, they weren't as affective, but at least they didn't attract more Grimm.

The soulless monsters tore at buildings, sending rubble flying with ease. Huntsmen, a bare six people, met their match against the unending tide, overwhelmed by sheer number. Without much choice, they equipped their weapons with dust and brimstone became the air.

Screams soon pierced the air as much as roars and gunfire. There were screams of pain, but there were also screams of rage. Cornered in their homes, people became like animals. One woman tore out pieces of her home with her own bare hands as she fended off a weakened Manticore, screeching like a banshee, tears streaming down her face, before succumbing to her wounds. Her husband followed up from behind her, smashing a broken table leg into a Nevermore that joined the fight, letting their children escape just in time into their neighbor's barely standing house. Then a Nevermore crushed the building from above, leaving the father alone in the world.

Chris looked away, only to take in more of this scarily familiar scene. Once, the street was lined with worn houses. Now, man's testament of defiance to the monsters of darkness lay shattered. Night invaded day and the balance was broken.

The old man stood over his charges protectively, but he had no weapons. All he had was a backpack. Behind him, Chris hugged Mint close to his side. She was shaking. He turned to run with his dau - friend. In the distance, the mansion seemed to be the most well equipped in terms of defenses.

A Nevermore landed straight in front of the old man. It cawed at the group of humans, but due to its size it came out as more of a roar. Then, it launched a number of feathers at the ridiculously close range.

The old man's aura-augmented speed was fast. In his youth he was quite the powerful huntsmen. With dexterity that was beyond even superhuman he smacked away the projectiles. However, he was now slowed down by age. A single feather got passed.

His heart almost broke when he heard a familiar, shrill, feminine scream. However, he kept to his task and wielded his backpack with angry passion. The feather attack had left the bird open, and he took the opening. With one quick lunge, his fear for Mint became power, and suddenly everything around him became dark, but for the Grimm that was about to _pay_.

Behind him, Chris grabbed at a prone Mint's clothing, around where the black feather had pierced. It was to the side, and there was no blood, so he hoped to God that it hadn't pierced any flesh. He glanced at her face. The little girl was staring at the entry point with wide eyes.

"No, please no, please no..." He whispered as he turned back to his task.

But his worst fears were assuaged when he found unblemished skin, and dirt. Realizing that he had no time, he tried to rip away the clothing and continue running. However, the feather blade was dull on its sides, and Chris was too weak to rip the cloth appart.

He looked up and saw a second Nevermore join in the fight with the old man. All around him were the sounds of battle, as numerous huntsmen he had already seen were beating off the invaders. It was chaos, and good things rarely happened in chaos. He had to get Mint out. So, he took his own blade and worked at Mint's dress. It wasn't as sharp as it should be. As Chris needed it to be.

And then it happened.

"Chris!" The old man called.

There was such anguish in his voice that the boy's head snapped up. One of the Nevermores had gotten past the huntsmen, and it was heading straight for the two children. Its head plate was shattered, and it's run was awkward.

Still, it was a full ton of muscle barrelling down a street.

A car going at 60 kph could kill a man. For an old man, it was even lower. For children, who could get squashed underneath the weight, too scared to run? Too little. On the other hand, to kill a human with a blade, it only took 0.3 Newtons applied in the right place.

For the monster, who had both the strength and the blades, was it not a wonder how even with superheroes, humanity had struggled?

Chris was not afraid, faced with such a threat. Instead, he only felt peace. Something comforted him. An echo of fatherly(?) feelings long passed wrapped themselves around his body. It should be strange, but it was not. He listened to the immaterial whispers, calmly lending them his body. They felt empowering, like liquid ambrosia. Hm, no, the feelings were not just fatherly...

 _For them, Sparrow!_

He grabbed his blade and calmly stood up. With his own cold eyes, he gazed into the twin crimson orbs of the Grimm, and only saw death. He could run, saving himself. Or he could stay.

 _...just as our ancestors before us have done. Are we not Arcs? Martyrs, sacrifices, for the greater good?_

He remembered all that had happened before. The moment when he had almost abandoned the poor defenseless child. Why had he almost done it ? Because he knew his heart was tainted? That was a horrid reason. Knowing you are a villain does not suddenly excuse your actions.

Maybe it was because he wanted to save more lives to redeem himself in the eyes of God? One for each he took? That was stupid. God was all good and all seeing. He never weighed lives as if they were mere numbers. Heaven's gate wasn't opened to the ones who paid the most charity after all, but to the righteous. No, all it took, was to choose the right thing.

Maybe it was even due to the will of God itself that he was now here, able to make this choice. To stand here before certain death and repent for all his sins. After all, to ask for forgiveness was easy, but to deserve it through action was hard.

But weirdly… the choice to die was suddenly an easy decision to make.

Chris liked being a hero. He remembered how he felt when he'd saved Mint the first time. How she smiled softly at him with eyes large with wonder. He liked it when the villagers looked at him not with disdain, but with awe.

He took a wider stance. The boy would not, will not make the mistakes of his youth again, back when he had lacked anything sacred. He would face the foe head on.

 _For we are House Nikos! We do not kneel!_

After all, this was his second life. He had already wasted his first, but Mint had not even lived through one. He was… he was proud of how she had taken the abuse of the villagers, how she had not broken down like he himself had once done. Chris wanted to see her grow.

She had so much ahead of her. Things like studies, finding love, or traveling the world. She needed to experience _life_ , a life that a monster of literal darkness was about to take from her. However, to save her, it would take a miracle.

" _And all miracles require sacrifice_." The words that came out of his mouth weren't his, but they would do.

A life, for a life.

He raised his blade.

It would be the instrument of his will. Once, it had betrayed its master and had taken the owner's life. But now, it would redeem itself.

He raised it higher to see his hand. Once, it betrayed everything it stood for and had taken the lives he wished it had not. But now, it would redeem itself.

His other hand moved over his heart. Once, it betrayed its very self. But now, it would redeem itself.

He readied himself. Straightened his posture.

The Grimm grew close. The ground shook.

Someone was screaming his name.

The wind picked up.

He leapt.

The tiny seven year old boy reached up to the ever distant heavens and met the twenty foot tall monster with all the force of his will. Determination filled his veins, purpose filled his muscles, and fire lit up his eyes as his very soul manifested into the physical realm.

 _For it is in sacrifice that we ignite the flame of life. Through this, we become the beacon of Light in the darkest of nights. Infinite in distance, and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my hand…_

 _...condemn thee._

 _~The Path Most Traveled~_

 **A/N: Damn it! If only he had his pistol! But sadly, getting dealt a bad hand is part of life and authors with hidden agendas. Errr ignore the latter.**

 **Please review! I love reading them, and just like RWBY: Infinity Crisis, I'm thinking of starting a review response section.**


	8. Chapter 6 Part 1

**A/N: It's been a while!**

 **I have made updates to previous chapters to add detail and foreshadow future things. I will summarize them here in case you don't want to read it all again.**

 **His sister has black hair (changes everywhere)**

 **Murals in the outside of the city, depicting a man accepting a heart from a woman (chapter 1)**

 **Reference to two dragons (chapter 1)**

 **Beta: Courtland**

 **(\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/)**

" _Yes!" cried Chris with joy._

 _His trophy had finally arrived after weeks of anticipation. He couldn't wait to surprise everyone!_

 _He opened the box and took out the trophy. The trophy was made out of a cheap metal and painted a yellowish color that was supposed to be gold. Underneath was his name, and the engraved words "1rst Place, Alviss Regional Chess Tournament", an inscription of his achievement on a cheap metal plate. Chris didn't care that the trophy was poorly made, however. Holding it in his own hands made it feel like solid gold._

 _His elation almost made his heart burst out of his chest as he walked out of his and his sister's room and around the corner. He hid the trophy behind his back, hoping to surprise them._

" _Mom! Dad!" They were even home at the same time. It must be the best day ever!_

 _He was stopped by a finger. "Shhh, wait a second, son." Huh? "Continue, Lily."_

" _Dear!" His mother admonished her husband. "Sorry, Chris, just a moment, Lily's brought home some very important and great news!"_

Ah! _Lily was also there, sitting at their old round table with their parents. She absentmindedly brushed aside a lock of her shiny onyx hair. Chris decided to patiently wait, like the good child he was . Lily waved at him with a smile before continuing._

" _As I was saying, it turns out that Stevenson's team got disqualified. There were some major inconsistencies with his experiments."_

 _Chris' mother gasped. "So, you have moved up to first?"_

 _Lily nodded. Ah, did she win a competition too?_

" _And the scholarship to that… that prestigious university?"_

 _She nodded to their father's question. Chris smiled to the side. He knew she had always wanted to go there._

" _Full scholarship, plus research position."_

" _And the prize money?"_

" _Every single cent of the fifteen thousand… minus taxes, of course."_

 _Their mother cheered and went on to hug her daughter, while their father visibly puffed up with pride._

" _We can finally afford fresh food! Let's make a cake to celebrate," their mother turned to him with a big smile. "You want to help out, Chris?"_

 _Making a cake? That sounds like fun! Still, he wanted to show off his plastic trophy!_

…

 _Chris paused. Show off that?_

 _His plastic trophy, for what basically amounted to winning a game? His mass manufactured trophy that didn't guarantee any kind of bright future for him? His cheap trophy that wasn't even even worth ten cents?_

 _Compared to fifteen thousands dollars… that amount of money was a lifesaver for a family like them. That was at least a few month's rent..._

 _His hands shook. He really wanted to show off his achievement… but..._

 _His sister had just single handedly saved his family, and what did he do with his time? Competed in a childish event, that's what! What did he do while she was studying? Probably scratching his head, staring blankly at mathematics that she had mastered ages ago._

 _What would his parents say if they realized he had wasted so much time with a_ game _? They would not look at him with eyes filled with pride - no, instead, they would be disappointed!_

 _He sprinted out of the room, the object of his shame hidden away from their eyes. Chris ignored their confused calls._

 _Envy, jealousy, it all pooled inside him. He wanted to hate her. He wanted to curse her name, to wish that she never existed… but the anger towards his sister disappeared just as fast as it came. Because, in the end, she was his sister. Hadn't she always being there for him? A kind, loving sister, that Chris could not find any fault in. A perfect being, like an angel. And so his anger turned inward, transforming into something just as ugly. Shame and guilt._

 _What a useless trophy! He burst into his side of his room and threw the pointless piece of plastic with all his might. He was stupid to have invested so much time on it. Why couldn't he be more like his sister? He was always so stupid, an idiot-head!_

 _The plastic piece of junk hit the wall and was smashed into pieces._

 **(\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/)**

Chris woke up like he always did. Eyes closed, body still. For the first time however, there was no sluggish awakening, just a sudden thrust into consciousness. The world burst into sound - his mind going into overdrive to determine his environment.

The sound of many people shuffling around.

"More water! Her wound is infected!"

"The CCT! I need a status report on repairs by yesterday!"

"Dammit, stay alive!"

Screams of pain. Moaning.

But no screeching of the Grimm. The battle was over. Either they won, or they had retreated to underground shelters. Did they have bomb shelters here?

The air smelt like ash and disinfectant. The smell of an infirmary in a warzone, minus the gunpowder. To some, it was the smell of death, and to others, it was proof that they were still alive. To Chris… it brought a familiar calm.

Something tugged at his heart and he froze his last train of thought.

It was a strange feeling, since he could tell it wasn't physical. Was this his soul? His aura had to be fully unlocked now, since he had survived the Grimm. Or someone saved him. So, was his aura unlocked?

Chris tried to recall details. He distinctly remembered a strange creed or prayer be muttered before he went unconscious. Actually, there were a lot of things muttered to himself before he went unconscious. Something about Arcs and the House of Nikos? That was weird. He hadn't reacted then, since for some reason he had crazy tunnel vision. There was another tug at his heart, again stopping him from further introspection.

 _What was that?_ He tried harder to grasp the feeling. Then, he realized something. His eyes snapped open.

"Mint!" he yelled. His voice was hoarse and dry.

Someone pushed him back onto the straw bed. He struggled against it, but the grip was like steel. He twisted his head to look at the culprit.

"Shu' up!" The old man snapped at Chris, wincing and covering one of his ears with the hand that wasn't holding him down. "Yer loud enough to wake tha dead! And Mint's all good thanks to ya. Now ge' some rest!"

Chris scanned his body with his eyes. The elder looked well enough, no visible wounds. Actually, he looked completely unwounded. Aura was truly fearsome.

Chris stopped resisting and fell back onto the uncomfortable straw. "Is Natasha unwounded? And could I have a glass of water please?"

"Aye. It'll take more than ah few Grimm tah take Natasha down. Here yah go." The old man handed him a mug, forcing Chris to sit up to drink it and invalidating their earlier battle.

A small part of Chris expected ale in the mug due to some random inkling he had. Was it some book? Something about it being safer to drink than water? Whatever, he was wrong, it was water. He sipped from the cup, testing the temperature, before chugging it all down.

"The town's still in shock ovah wha' happened. Got a few dead."

Chris' eyes widened slightly. He had forgotten to ask about the town to at least seem caring. His mistake. The old man had probably caught it. No matter. The village had wronged Mint, he wasn't about to care anytime soon.

"That's terrible." Chris replied, trying to be as sincere as possible by thinking of the two villagers who had apologized. A lie without even a speck of truth is easily seen through, after all.

"Is the attack over?" He handed back the mug.

The old man placed the cup on a wooden table beside them. "Aye." His words were followed by awkward silence between the two.

Chris didn't mind. He and the old man were still pretty much strangers after all. His eyes broke eye contact and wandered around to look at his surroundings.

They were inside a repurposed classroom. He could tell that by the worn low quality blackboard at the front of a row of strawbeds whereupon lay patients. Chris' was located on the far right by his perspective in the row.

Between the straw beds were desks, though their metal legs were all replaced with wooden substitutes, either because the metal had worn away, or so that the metal could be reused. There were shelves by the far wall filled with tools and medicine. Just like the other houses in the village, the walls themselves were also falling apart, revealing their concrete makeup.

His attention was captured by the one crying women and two children, whose faces he couldn't see due to the direction they were facing, by the bedside of the patient directly on his left. The patient was a man with white hair - the cause for his bedridden condition was not immediately discernible to Chris.

Chris inspected the man's face for a while longer. The patient had white hair, but his facial features did not look that old. Kind of strange, like an old young man. Albino, maybe? Chris looked closer. _Ah. It's the man from before._ _The one who fought the bird Grimm with a wooden table leg._ That was why he looked familiar. His wife and children had died. _That unfortunate man._ The words came out flat even for a thought. Chris had no emotions attached to that beyond the words themselves. _Though I swear he wasn't albino before._

Seeing the man did remind Chris of an important matter, however.

"Mr. Magpie, I do hope that attack was an isolated case."

"It is not." The elderly's expression turned grim, or grimmer than it normally was.

As Chris thought. The Grimm attacks were devastating and random.

It was… an experience, living in fear of things like so. While he never got besieged by monsters, men can be just as fearsome. He could still remember hiding in mountain caves while enemy "volunteer soldiers" (they were in reality just foreign aid) patrolled the forest outside, or the days when they had to hide in a city getting shelled by artillery. It was not uncommon to wake up one day with your friends in pieces. But in reality, people in these circumstances change to suit such environments.

Humans have an astounding ability to adapt. Without a way out, fear becomes dull over time. So, even while impending death rains from above, people could still walk to work with smiles on their faces if the threat of shelling stayed over their head long enough. It was almost admirable of them.

That was what happened to Chris. He had brushed with death so many times that he could almost remember the touch and smell of her. The numbing peace, like the warm embrace of serenity. The fresh flowery scent of hellish brimstone and decay.

And it was this reason that Chris felt little sympathy for the villagers. Death really was no big deal to him. What he did feel for them, was kinship - a bond that could only be formed between people who have lived similarly, and understood what it meant to have gone through such experiences. This village was not a good place for Mint, but for him, it was a hint of home.

Well, of his last home, not his real home.

"Still, ah've never seen ah attack this strong," added the old man, halting Chris from his contemplation. "We're going to send ah few people tah investigate."

Good. Chris wanted to know more. He asked more questions about the Grimm and aura. The old man answered with care, strangely subdued, until a green haired girl came excitedly into the room. Behind her, she pulled an exasperated maid.

"Natasha. Mint." The boy acknowledged.

"Chris! I'm so happy you are alright!" She hugged him from the side. He returned it - but only for appearance's sake.

"It is good to see the little macho master in good health."

Chris blinked. It was unusual to see the android - or was it a gynoid? - snarky, but since he hasn't known her for long, he didn't think much of it.

"Looks like you two are unharmed," he stated. Was she mad at him for something? Her hostility looked pretty illogical from his side.

"Did you tell him about the party yet?" Mint asked the old man.

"No."

"Awww!"

Chris stared. Shouldn't she be more affected by everything? The village was almost destroyed, almost killed. Where was the distress?! He stared at both of their faces, one smiling and the other peacefully neutral, so incongruent with the scene of complete chaos around him as medics tried to save the lives of people on death's door.

 _Think, Chris. Strange things have always turned out to be dangerous. Figure it out._

A flash of red. He forced himself from remembering and continued on his train of thought.

 _Sources of happiness - her own survival, the old man's survival since he seemed to be pretty close to her, Grimm were dead… wait didn't the 'Doom squad' children react strangely too to life-endangering threats? There was something related there._

 _Think! Irregularities…_

A flash of a kiss. It was rough, the lips were dry - experienced, dirty but it wasn't dirt - it was ash. He should have known - how did he not realize - _Irregularities! Never ignore them._

 _Focus_.

 _Irregularities: children ignore trauma. Broken moon. Rob - why did I remember that name? Who is that?_ He shook his head. _Focus. Splendorous mansion - poor town (strike against the old man). Old man hiding his true intentions (probably). Mint's parents, was there a reason they disappeared? The box. Ember. How come in this world the soul can become physical? Why are the Grimm attracted to negative emotions, and how does that even work?_

 _None of them relate!_

 _Wait._

He narrowed his eyes.

 _Negative emotions - trauma._

 _Bear, giant plush bear, the other day. Why would a rundown village buy giant plush bears in the shape of their enemies? They didn't have much money after all. Calms the children? No. It would just scare them. Though if it was always around… then they could get used to it?_

 _That's a stretch. Extend._

Chris tried to make more connections.

 _Humanity plagued by monsters that bring them despair and that are attracted to despair. Despair causing more despair. Vicious cycle. Only way to stop it would be to break the cycle. To live, they must not fear death. So… the bear is one of many tools to help them get used to the Grimm?_

 _That's why the children deal with trauma so well._ Chris realized. _Their very society was built up on trauma management. So even…_ He thought about the beautiful interior decor of the old man's mansion. _It looked new._

Chris thought about how Ms. Canes had to judge Mr. Magpie too. _He was an outsider. He came later, possibly to save them. That's why the old man's place is so glamorous. He is acting like a beacon of hope for the village. To show them that the village can be rebuilt, that there is a bright future if only they fight. Hope possibly attracts less Grimm. Then, why hasn't he rebuilt more of the village? Maybe because he was focusing on the defenses?_ Chris thought of all the hidden turrets. _Or maybe to hide the true power of the village from the bandits?_

 _...I think?_ It was all theories. Very interesting, Chris had never thought about how strange society could become with such a world. He must analyse it, less he be caught with his pants down.

"...Chris?"

He came back to the real world. "Sorry, lost in thought." He paused. "...Mint. What are you doing with that crayon?"

Mint quickly moved it from where it was hovering before his face and stuck it behind her back.

"N'thing."

Chris looked at the old man for help. Mr. Magpie didn't offer an explanation, instead he looked sideways and snorted .

"Yer need tah pay more attention tah your su'oundings, Chris."

The words struck the boy much harder than they would have anyone else. His instincts were sharpened over years of rigorous training. Of course, he needed times where he could let his guard down, but to choose a place where he was surrounded by possible enemies - the villagers? It didn't make sense.

An invisible tug. _-...P…-_ Like magnetism, it pulled him. He felt it and tried to judge the direction, ignoring the old man's and Mint's confused questions. The tug… came from Mint?

He ignored the family by the patient beside him, who were getting louder, and focused on the feeling from before. The strange pressure, or feeling of fatherhood, whatever the hell it was, had grown more intense! That was what the tugging feeling was. It was an invisible pressure at first, but now was concentrated. Chris felt himself panic. What was it?! It wasn't anything normal, it was more than normal, supernatural, even. Almost like an invisible force that controlled him like the strings of a puppet.

He opened his mouth to voice this strange happening, before closing it after realizing how it would sound. " _I have fatherly feelings for you, Mint, help me! They are really strong!" ...I think I'm going to vomit._ No, he has to deal with them himself. He shivered. He felt quite weirded out by the situation. Who wouldn't be?

But… hadn't the strange feelings helped him before, when he saved Mint? It helped him make the right choice, to stay and save his - the girl. _-...Please...!-_ It wasn't bad, per say. He remembered the many ways he was going to betray her trust, so ending up not doing so was a great relief.

Chris felt a bit guilty for even having to think over his own sacrifice, when he obviously was so selfish - it wouldn't be much of a loss to the world if he was gone. Still, it didn't feel right. The outcome was great, but how much of the decision was made by him, and not these alien feelings? He pushed that thought aside. He didn't care, all that mattered was the results.

Though, the way he'd saved her did make him feel embarrassed in hindsight. " _And all miracles require sacrifice." Really, what the hell was that Chris? Are you a high school student, trying to impress your crush by acting cool?_ _War hardened veteran my ass. -...Please, Ms. Canes...- Maybe this body is affecting me. How much of critical thinking is even in the soul? -...I beg of you!-_

Chris froze. " _I beg of you"? That wasn't me._

 **~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~**

 _-"Take me, Ms. Canes! Kill me instead!" I begged of her. I couldn't stand the reality of my failure. A husband, a father, I failed at both._

 _She looked impassively down at me, but I knew that she was conflicted too._

" _Take mine and fix it! Please, Ms. Canes!" The tears streamed down my face._

 _My world had collapsed around me, leaving me with nothing. This life isn't worth living without them._

" _You are one of my Children too, Mr. Arcia." Her voice was soothing and filled with compassion, but that was not what I needed right now. "I can't…"_

 _Anger._

" _And they are my children and my wife!"_

" _It's just…"_

 _I grabbed at her arms. "Ellie, please! Think what would you do for your family?"_

 _She knew the answer. And I knew it too._

" _Look into my eyes, do you not see the same conviction?" I spat at her. "Take my life as it is dictated in tradition!"_

 _We were like glass sculptures, frozen in our poses. Her blue Arc eyes staring into oh-so similar ones. And shakily, her resolve broke, and so did the tableau as she pointed her spear towards me. Her mouth opened, but I didn't listen, so focused I was in my goal._

 _I knew she wouldn't be able to deny my request. After all, I knew exactly what the Butcher herself would do for family._

" _...and by my hand." I heard the end of her prayer. "… condemn thee."_

 _Then I felt my consciousness fade._

 **~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~**

Chris fell back into reality. It was so sudden that his acting skills couldn't keep up. His two companions noticed the change - widened eyes, flinch - immediately and asked about it. He didn't listen, only immediately turning to his left.

The patient, the father, was dead. Chris didn't know how he knew, but he knew. And that memory… it belonged to him. Not to Chris.

Was this Chris' semblance? Semblances were supernatural abilities you gained after unlocking aura, after all. But memory viewing was a strange choice... Wasn't a semblance tied in to his soul? What does having a power like that say about him?

Or maybe a semblance was completely unrelated to the person? Ms. Canes had a time traveling ability, after all. It made no sense. Having fire powers may indicate a fiery personality, or lots of rage, but time travel?! Semblances truly were a strange concept.

Chris scoffed. Technically, there was nothing that indicated that unlocking aura equalled unlocking the soul. For all he knew, it was just a power of the bodies of the people of this world.

The soul, afterall, is sacred to Chris. It shouldn't be a resource like oil, or humans, it was the fiber of one's being. To touch it was to defile it with mortal concerns. Yes, there was no way this aura was related to the actual soul. After all, if it was analysable like the rest of the world, then it meant that it wasn't special at all, didn't it? That it worked in the realm of men, and could be defiled by people like him, and that they… _them_... Chris grimaced.

A tug.

He turned back towards Mint. And the strange pressure that had evolved into a tug... He hadn't made the connection between the two pieces of information until now, surprisingly, but that feeling, it must also(?) be his semblance. That was great! Didn't it help him make the choice to save Mint? It seemed to have made him feel more human, overriding his old instincts.

He paused.

No, if that was true, it meant that all his triumph in saving Mint hadn't been due to his decision. It was just a power. An external force, forcing him to do the right thing. By chance. If it hadn't been there, would he have run like a coward? Abandoned Mint?

Basically _killing_ Mint?

 _No._ His heart pounded in his ears as the reality of the situation sunk in. _No!_ He struggled to calm himself, but for the first time in years, the emotions felt fresh and new. Why did all these emotions from the last few days feel so fresh and new?! ...could it be… His eyes widened.

The brain stores memories - he was religious, he wasn't stupid - and different hormone levels could affect a person's mood and personality. Seeing as he is in someone else's body, he had completely different organs, different ingrained instincts, and basically different levels of chemical compounds flowing through his body.

That… was interesting. For now, he had to take back control though. He struggled. The boy fought against the hysteria and bent his body with his iron will. Just as he was calming down, he was shocked out of his struggle as someone pushed him back to get him to lie down. It might have been to help him, but instead, the forceful restraining movement made it worse.

"Chris! Calm down! Stop, what 're yah doing!" He had no idea what his expression was like. It must have been bad.

He struggled against the grip reflexively. A small part of him noted that it was the old man pinning his arms down. Doesn't the old man know that you aren't supposed to hold down people having a seizure? Not that this was a seizure, the boy just felt hysterical, and It wasn't his previous train of thought that was causing it.

He could almost feel it again. Thick, braided ropes, unable to move, struggling, stop them. Stop themstopthemstopstopthemtheyarekillingHIM.

"Mr. Magpie!" He called shakily. "Stop holding me down, please! You are making it worse!"

The old man looked at him, confused, but relieved that the boy had returned to his senses, and let go. Chris fell back down with a moment of relief.

"Please… don't restrain me again." He brought his voice under control with his iron will.

 _You were such a coward!_

"What 'as that!" The old man barked out, "Did yah lose yer mind?!"

"...can we talk about that later?" Chris calmly told him, forcing his thoughts deeper into his mind. Mr. Magpie was the best person to learn more about semblances and their 'soul'. "I don't want to spoil the mood of the… party." He paused. "Say, Grass, how come there is a… party?"

Mr. Magpie didn't look happy at all with his subject change, again, but let him go. Beside them, Mint looked unsure.

"Yeah, it's a funeral party!"

…

Chris didn't know what to say, nor where to even start pointing out the contradictions in that statement.

"Right! Amm-ne-cya!" Mint smacked her head. "We're going to celebrate all the achievements and accomplishments of the people who di - passed away. You need to come, Chris!"

 _More trauma management,_ Chris thought clinically. _This could be interesting._ _However, I should figure out my semblance, and investigate the irregularities…_ Once again, it must have shown on his face, for Mint stared at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he's ever seen. _He needed to investigate his semblance, ignore her!_

"Preeettty please?"

 _Say no Chris. Your survival - and hers - are at stake here!_

The eyes grew watery.

 _Maybe I should go to… uh learn about their customs._

 **~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~**

He ended up going.

 **~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~**

 **A/N: Like I said on my profile, this chapter is one long one. It may end up as up to five parts long.**


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